


Une Lune Rouge Pend Bas

by TricksAndKicks



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Lesbian Character, OC is not the PC hunter, Slow Burn, Themes of Addiction, Themes of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 99,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksAndKicks/pseuds/TricksAndKicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the scourge breaking out, the Healing church combats the spreading sickness with fierce hunters who move like mist through the night. As the blood sickness spirals beyond the control of the church, and even the hunters themselves begin to feel it's affects, the life of a Hunter of Hunters is about to become very busy. </p><p>In the darkest of nights, it can be hard to tell who is friend and who is not.</p><p>*    *    *</p><p>I needed somewhere to put this, so I'll update it whenever I can. This fic focuses mostly on Eileen the Crow in the earlier days of the scourge, many years in the past. She will be romantically paired with a female hunter. I might bend some of the lore a bit to suit my story, so if anything I've mentioned so far bothers you, feel free to just keep scrolling on by. I plan for this fic to be rated Explicit, and there will be lots of blood, gruesome fights, and graphic imagery, so beware. I'll possibly update the tags as I go along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hunters End

"Tell me good hunter," the Dolls soft voice spoke as she kneeled above the slumped form of the blood soaked woman. "What is it you desire?"

A raspy chuckle slipped past the hunters mouth, fresh red flecks of blood spotting her lips. 

Those kind words. She'd heard them over and over, time and time again, yet they'd always seemed to her more of a greeting than a question. Now, she truly understood.

Since awakening in the dream as she'd done many times before, she noticed almost instantly the sorry state of it. Every passing second up until this moment felt twisted in some perverted way that caused dread to settle heavy in her stomach.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. The dream was supposed to be a place of safety. There was no such thing as pain here, no open wounds, or blood sodden soil.

So what had she done wrong?

Sadly there was a usefulness to be had, one she must have lived out. Someone must have thought this, anyways.

Her beautiful dream lay burning, and she herself broken, bleeding out while she sat with her back against the cool rock of a tombstone. And yet, the Doll bowed down on one knee over her and placed a gentle hand onto the Hunters shoulder, the first real comfort the Hunter had felt in many days, even if it were by a porcelain clad being.

"What is it you desire?"

The roaring sound of flames in her ears suddenly faded away and the foggy confusion in her mind began to clear immediately with the Dolls touch. Despite the fire still raging behind her, the only sound she heard now was her own labored breathing in the stillness.

"I-" The Hunter choked on the word painfully, the blood sloshing in her lung making it difficult to properly express her thoughts.

When was the last time someone had truly asked her this question? Life always had a way of forcing the story to play out wrong, but this? Perhaps in death, things could change. 

It was her decision, and her's alone. She alone had brought this upon herself- no one else.

The Hunter raised a heavy hand and gripped tightly onto the Doll's solid arm, clinging to the last kindness she knew.

"I want to be done with this dream." She spoke quietly, meeting the Dolls pale eyes for the first time. Although there was no expression in them, as there never was, the subtle tilt of her head somehow said it all.

Sadness.

The guilt the Hunter felt in that moment almost outweighed the pain she endured with every breath.

"Very well." She replied smoothly, gently moving her hand under the Hunters arm with the intention of helping her to her feet.

"Come with me good hunter. There is someone we must see."

 


	2. A New Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt begins.

The Yharnam sun was already setting low in the sky as Eileen set out to finish her task.

A Hunter by the name of Ramone had gone drunk with blood just three days ago. Thankfully, she didn't know the man well, but that didn't make the fact that he'd slaughtered his brother in a fit of maniacal laughter any less disturbing.

With the hunt becoming much less of a secret these days, her job was becoming much busier. 

There were whispers and rumors of a new movement to include the town of Yharnam in on these beast hunts, perhaps led by prodigies of the once great Hunter Ludwig, an almost ageless name among hunters. The blood centered organization always did put up appearances, but if this were true, then it proved that the beasts were becoming harder to control with each passing year. But it seemed like a smart move, given the sudden anti-church sediment that had begun to arise with every hushed slaughter that occurred now and then. Keeping people in the dark almost always resulted in distrust, no matter how miraculous your practices were.

As lower Yharnam became afflicted with "ashen blood", it was becoming more and more difficult for the church to hide the outbreak from the general populace, but they always seemed to somehow avoid the blame, either by popularity among the people, or by sheer force alone. 

Eileen only ever listened to these whispers, never one to get heavily involved in politics. As far as she was concerned, there was a mess to be cleaned, and that was that. Her job wasn't to debate, though she at times found herself irritated as well with the organizations methods.

It was the second day now that her prey had successfully evaded her. The transition from hunter to beast was typically a terrifying one, and putting an end to the blood addled hunter before that happened was essential to minimizing the damage. 

It's no doubt fighting beasts would be much a much easier lifestyle. Beast hunting in the past proved easy for her, a matter of being quick on the feet and hard with the blows. But the hunting of humans was a much different practice. Humans were calculative and cunning, and their new found beast hood only added to their strength and agility. But, no matter the circumstance, being a Hunter of Hunters meant granting mercy.

A beast could only be slain, and mercy could only be reserved for those still human.

Her target only moved under cover of night, much like herself, and left virtually no bodies in his wake, leading her to believe he was aware of her following. It was a curious question of just how aware the blood addled were. So far though he only seemed to direct his craftiness to ensuring he spilled blood without hindrance, so she cared little for whatever intelligence he still possessed.

Hours began to pass and the night grew darker. The howls of beasts being slain in the streets cut through the night air every now and then, further cementing the fact that the nightly hunts were far from a secret now. No doubt people were already at their windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the notorious hunters of the Church, and those who perhaps hailed from the mysterious Dream.

His trail led her over rooftops, into dark alleys and through the putrid stench of the sewers she knew as well as the back of her gloves.

As her boots clicked over the cobblestone of bridges overlooking the sewers, she couldn't help but to scowl at the disgraceful sight of bodies dumped unceremoniously into the canals below. Some of the corpses even appeared to be afflicted with the scourge and still groaned and trembled, even in death. No doubt the conditions were affecting the vermin below, as rats well beyond their normal size scattered and ran in twitchy movements from the light of her torch.

To her concern, the hunt led her to a familiar part of Yharnam, past the Gascoigne residence. No doubt the good Father and his companion were off on the hunt, leaving poor Viola to sit alone with her fears.

That's how it always was with most Yharnam men. Their idea of taking care of their woman usually meant crusading off to fight some noble cause while leaving them behind in their time of need.

But, in Gascoigne's case, he was a hunter after all, and typically a hunter must hunt, so she never held him to the same light as most. 

On any other night, Eileen would have passed the house with but a small thought, but this night there were dangerous prey about, and checking in on the good wife was more of an assurance to herself than anything. 

She approached the door and knocked distinctly, waiting patiently with her arms crossed while the curtain in the window drew back as it always did. A few moments later the sound of heavy locks being undone met her ears and the door opened. The Crow kept her distance, well aware that she had just been walking through a sewer. The smell of stew traveled through the open door, no doubt a dinner not meant to be shared alone.

"Ah, Eileen, it is good to see you well." The blonde greeted her warmly, a weary yet kind smile on her face. She held a little one in her arms, a baby wrapped up tightly in a pure white sheet, no more than a year old. It was a friendly sight to Eileen's tired eyes and she found herself almost pitying the poor exhausted woman. Being a new mother in Yharnam at this time must be hellish, especially on nights like these. "You are well?" Viola added.

"Aye Miss Viola. I was passing by, an' figured I would check in. Is the husband not home yet?"

Eileen already new the answer, but in way of conversation, it seemed polite to show concern for the family's well being.

The Hunter smiled, tilting her head with an amused hum as the baby peered up at her from the blanket and reached out a small chubby hand, presumably to attempt to grab at the tip of her wooden mask.

"No, it's been quite some time now." Viola replied, a hint of concern in her eyes as she gently guided the baby's hand back down into the blanket. "This hunt seems to stretch on longer and longer with each night... "

Eileen nodded silently and glanced around their surroundings as she paced a few steps over to the incense lantern hanging on the window, opening the glass panel. This part of Yharnam was safe compared to most, the scourge being mostly controlled by the Hunters who worked closely near the cathedral ward, but having a conversation out in the open in the dead of night like this probably wasn't the best idea. Rouge beasts trickled through the ranks every so often, and it usually lead to the slaughter of some poor sap who found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not to mention the corrupted hunters who used the many alleys and crevasses as means of escape.

"I don't mean to bother you..." Viola started as Eileen plucked out the burnt out incense and the Crow figured that when one said these words, it was usually with the intention of bothering someone.

"But... Is it true that the Church may begin recruiting citizens to fight this illness? I've heard rumors, at the shop, and at the chapel of this. Of course that Hunter of mine doesn't speak nary a word of it... Would they really do such a thing?"

"I'm not quite sure. I've heard the rumors as well, but they may be just that." She answered as she reached into a small pouch on her belt and retrieved a fresh candlestick, using the old candle to light the incense. This wasn't a topic she wasn't very fond of discussing, given The Healing Church wasn't something she was even heavily involved with. They provided information, and assisted her in locating and tracking prey at times, but it hardly went passed that.

"And what of Older Yharnam? I know it's been quarantined it due to the sickness, which is understandable, but I have been writing to my sister for weeks now and she has yet to reply. I'm concerned something may have happened, but no one is permitted to cross into that part of the city. The last thing she wrote to me was a mention of some group called the Powder Kegs becoming a sort of enforcer of curfews."

Eileen recognized the name well, the black sheep of the workshop, a group quickly prone to explosive solutions. She also noticed that the woman's voice was beginning to take a more frantic tone, and she swiftly closed the lantern.

"I've been hearing so many upsetting things, and-... I just want to know if my family is safe."

She had a pleading look in her eyes, and the Hunter really wished she had the answers that Viola wanted. Eileen shushed her, patting her arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. 

"You an' the baby are just fine for the time being, and as far as your sister is concerned well..." She mulled it over in her mind for a moment, already regretting the offer she was about to make. "I'm afraid I can't wander into Old Yharnam on account of my own good will, but if'a hunt brings me there, I could try to find her."

Viola breathed and exhaled, averting her gaze guilty to the baby in her arms and rocking the her ever so slightly when she began fuss, perhaps picking up on her mother's distress.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't trouble you with such things. Your'e out risking your life, and I'm asking you to run errands." The mother spoke regretfully and shook her head, running a hand over her tired face and pushing a stray hair back.

"Don't ya worry about it, you've got a hard enough job looking after this little one. If there's anything I can do to put your mind at'ease, I'm more than happy to." She assured warmly.

Eileen never considered herself easily swayed, but seeing the poor wife in distress always had a way of pulling at her heart strings. Or perhaps it was the small green eyed baby staring up at her, one could never tell.

Eileen watched almost in a trance as the mother rocked the small child and shushed her gently, effectively quieting her approaching fit. 

Babies were something Eileen had made up her mind about a long time ago. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have something so precious that could be lost. And as a Hunter, having something to lose always meant you were at a disadvantage, one of the many reasons she mostly kept to herself until she met the Gascoigne family. They ensured she rarely got a moment of peace, always checking in at odd times merely to ask how she was, which was slightly irritating more than it was heartwarming. Nevertheless, the three of them had grown distant over the years, something that she was entirely to blame for. 

Of course, this wasn't the sort of thing to be said aloud to a new mother.

"Thank you, Eileen." Viola sighed, patting the comforting glove that Eileen had placed on her arm. "These past few years... You've become like family to us."

The Crow tensed upon hearing this, and it was moments like this that she felt a small irritation towards Gascoigne. Comforting his wife was his job after all, right? Surely the hunt couldn't be gratifying enough to abandon your family this long? 

Viola left for a moment to put the baby to bed and to retrieve a pen and paper for the address, and Eileen respectfully declined when she offered her some tea. Viola knew the Crow would turn her down, as she usually did, but she continued to ask frequently out of politeness. She noticed oddly that the Hunter of Hunters had been growing more distant with each new year. She couldn't even recall the last time she had seen her face. Gascoigne of course assured her many times that nothing was wrong, but Viola couldn't help but feel there was something bothering their feathered friend, and she knew he thought so too.

"Stay safe out there," Viola reminded her as they said their goodbyes. "And if you happen to see that husband of mine-"

"I'll be sure to give'im a good slap." 

Viola chuckled, and Eileen smiled beneath her mask. "I'll try to bring him home." She assured her. "The night is long, but it always ends." 

With a quiet goodbye the Hunter turned to leave, her mind once again lingering on the prey that was no doubt hours away by now.

The sound of a many locks being fastened was the last thing she heard as she made her way down the street, and the short encounter left her with a strange feeling of sorts. 

Her prey had wandered farther than intended, and now it was getting far too personal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to realize that I really enjoy keeping my chapters from getting too long. It keeps me updating more frequently and makes it easier to catch typos. I used to stress myself out in earlier fics trying to meet a certain wordcount, so I'm glad to finally take it easy and just let the work flow.


	3. A Killer Must Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt gone awry.

The slaughtered corpse of what looked like a drunken idiot provided a new lead on the location of her mark. Only an idiot after all would be caught on the streets after the Church's new curfew, not to mention the rumors of beasts.

It was impossible to avoid stepping into the thick blood pooling around the body as she inspected it. The man looked as if he had been mauled by some sort of fierce animal. Flesh and muscle might as well have been paper, and the bone underneath twigs. But the clean cut of a dagger across his throat made it obvious that what ever killed him did it with a human touch, not wanting their prey to attract attention.

Screaming would certainly be difficult without an intact windpipe.

The body was still warm, which gave her hope that maybe her hunt would finally come to an end. Following the blood as far as she could, she found herself making the same trek that every hunt ended with. Hunters could be so predictable, even in beasthood. Her search led her finally to what looked to be fishing dock at the farther edge of the city.

The gentle lapping waters under the pale white moon would have been a pleasant sight were it not for the figure standing as still as a gravestone at the end of the dock.

It was the same dance over and over. Eileen knew well by now that if she came across a Hunter in this stance, they were completely aware of her pursuits. Now he was merely waiting for her to strike.

The Crow stood silently behind a couple of stacked crates that reeked of dead fish, taking a moment to study the surroundings of what would be their final stand. It was a dreary setting, thankfully lacking in bystanders. The dark but calm waters gently rocked a nearby wooden boat tied to the dock, filling the air with an occasional creak of wood.

A bright red scarf standing out against a black coat assures her that it's her mark. Oddly enough the scarf had previously belonged to the Hunter's brother. Why a beast would want to keep his brothers attire was an interesting thought, but not one that Eileen concerned herself with for very long. Whatever reason it had didn't matter. The stench of blood drifting on the cold wind towards her keen nose further strengthened her determination to end this. People had died already due to her blunders, and tonight the bloodshed would stop. 

The familiar feeling of her senses heightening while she slowly approached the dock made her fingertips tingle as her hands gripped tighter over the handles of her blades, and the taste of sea water in the air accompanied her as she stepped out into the open and came to a stop where the concrete met the wooden planks.

Why he had decided in his blood drunk state to corner himself on a dock was beyond her. Perhaps he had lost his way and became trapped by the waters edge? What ever the reason, the constant sounds of the sea shifting to and fro set off alarms in her mind.

' _Water... Water, stay out of the water... One wrong move and he could drown you easily.'_

It wasn't a chance she was willing to take, so she kept her distance, not daring to step out onto the dock.

The Hunter must have found this not to his liking and Eileen assumed she had ruined what was originally some plan to lure her in, since no more than three seconds after she came to a standstill he turned and rushed at her full speed. 

She raised her pistol immediately in response, aiming for his knee and instead hitting the side of his torso.

A good example of why she typically stuck to close range combat anyways.

The Hunter quickly closed the space between them, the sharp metal whip of a threaded cane already in the process of slashing mid air. Eileen easily avoided the long ranged attack when she recoiled backwards, using the pause between blows to put another bullet in the man's shoulder. He stumbled back with a small stagger, but overall seemed unaffected, as most blood addled hunters usually where.

The creature took a few steps back, and Eileen began to notice that he was intentionally trying to bait her out onto the dock. He came to a standstill again, waiting. 

"Heh. To hell with it." Eileen muttered under her breath and indulged him. 

The Crow went in fast, ducking another attack from the whip and using the opportunity to slash at his stomach when she glided past him. The whip came back around however, slicing at the open air behind him and nicking her shoulder, not too far from her neck.

 _'That would have been an idiotic way to go out.'_ Eileen lectured herself for being too risky, but showed no sign of obvious pain. Days of pursuing was making her an impatient fool, and now she was beginning to pay for it. She decided in the seconds that followed that getting to the other side of him would be her next move.

Meanwhile the Hunter had already advanced once again, his cane transformed back into that of a sword, and he dived in fast, aiming for her chest. It was a messy attack, one she easily avoided with another swift sidestep, albeit a bit to close to the docks edge for her liking. The Hunter stumbled past her and Eileen slashed her blade down in a quick flash over the man's hand, successfully severing most of his fingers and sending his cane clattering to the ground with them. This stopped the Hunter dead in his tracks and he must have realized too late that he had come too close. Before he could back away, she quickly turned her back to him and thrust an elbow sharply into his ribs, then using his taller height to her advantage, she grabbed the wrist on his arm and pulled it over her, twisting it sharply before slamming down over her shoulder. The man howled behind her as his elbow bent unnaturally, and the satisfying pop of a bone snapping out of place met her ears. Content with effectively breaking his arm, Eileen proceeded to throw him forward over her shoulders, slamming the man's back down harshly onto the docks floor. 

She planned from this moment to add a swift killing blow to the ground, straight into his eye socket, but that changed when the wood under her left foot suddenly splintered and cracked loudly. The shift in her weight from throwing him had put too much pressure on the apparently frail wood underneath her. Her leg immediately plunged downwards, a large shard of wood slicing the skin from her ankle up to her knee.

Much to her dismay, the two second window to deliver the final blow had now passed, and the beast was already recovering from his mistake of getting too close to the Crow, crawling away and staggering to his knees. 

The gash on her leg probably hurt like hell, but in the midst of a fight, pain wasn't usually something she processed until afterwards. She imagined it probably hurt worse though when she yanked her leg out in one swift jerk, and if the warm blood suddenly running down her leg was any indication, it was a most likely deep. Luckily she could still stand, but the subtle limp as she retreated a few steps back was a tad worrisome. If the fight went on too long, this could certainly be a bad thing.

The mad Hunter seemed to have some sort of renewed vigor as it stood up, snapping it's elbow back into place with a sickening dull crack and only a flinch to show for the pain. She had little worry though since the damage had already been done, the arm rendered useless. He was breathing erratically now, nostrils flaring like some sort of wild animal, and Eileen wondered if it was the scent of her own blood driving him mad as she distanced herself a few steps back. In the light of the moon she could see clearly now just how beastly he looked. His mouth was lined with crooked sharp teeth, and there was a sneer on his face that looked absolutely feral.

She noticed though as he stood that he did so with a stagger, and much to her delight he ignored the weapon now lying on the dock floor, so tauntingly close to falling over the edge and into the grey waters.

He charged at her again with an shriek, and Eileen figured that he may as well have been surrendering the fight. It was a last ditch effort of a wounded and cornered animal, and it couldn't have been more easy to counter. Eileen raised her blade once again, ready to slice through his neck just as he had done to that poor soul only a few hours before.

Pulling back her arm, she prepared to slash forward at the raging maniac when-

" _THERE YOU ARE YOU BASTARD!_ " A voice suddenly shrieked from her side and Eileen barely had time to register the flash of gray that flew past her and all but tackled the beast to the ground. 

"What-?" Eileen stuttered as the two crashed into the ground and the person on top began throwing heavy thudding punches into the beasts face.

" **DO YOU KNOW- HOW LONG,** " The apparent Hunter shouted, accentuating every few words with a punch. " **I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU?!** "

"What the hell do ya think you're doing?!" Eileen shouted, but the Hunters onslaught didn't last long, when the beast delivered a brutal kick to the her torso and sent her flying backwards towards the Crow's feet.

The woman groaned and quickly tried to get back up, cursing as she cradled her bruised middle. Eileen's shock quickly wore off when the beast suddenly stood up with a more fearful look about him, glancing desperately from side to side. She instantly recognized this as the look of an animal ready to flee.

" _Damn it."_   She cursed under her breath, grabbing the unknown Hunters shoulder as they attempted to stand and shoving her aside. "Get out of my way!"

Eileen made a mad dash forward, her blade desperate to connect with the creatures flesh. He frantically looked behind him and she could see his intention long before he acted.

" _NO_! _"_ Eileen shouted in vain as he took off down the dock and jumped straight into the murky waters. 

The Crow and the Hunter both stopped their pursuit at the docks edge, breaths quick as they gazed down while the foamy water stilled, the blood addled Hunter seemingly nowhere in sight.

The interloper was the first to speak.

"Pity." She muttered and dusted herself off casually while Eileen stood still in bewilderment, staring down into the water that had just claimed her prey. The very thing she had been tracking for almost  _four, days, now._

Silent disbelief quickly took to a more aggressive form when she heard the rustling of a coat being taken off. The Hunter of Hunters quickly turned to the intruder and grasped her arm, slamming her back against one of the piers wooden pillars.

" _What in the **bloody** hell do you think you're doin?"_ Eileen repeated grimly, pinning the Hunters upper arms against the damp wood. Pale skin and a pair of blue eyes gazed back at her in genuine shock, the bottom half of the Hunters face hidden by a mask.

"Well, one of us has to go after him-"

"Are you mad?! That _thing_ will drown you the second you touch the water!"

A few seconds of silence passed and the Hunter's eyes glanced to either side as she considered a response with no sense of urgency.

"I've got all night." She replied with a small shrug.

She watched her with a hidden furrow of her brow before her meaning suddenly donned on her.

' _Hm. A dreamer... Figures._ '

Eileen sighed bitterly, pinching the beak on her mask, a habit she'd formed merely out of expression alone from wearing it so often.

"I've spent the better part of the last three days tracking this thing, and right when I've got him exactly where I want him, you show up and botch the entire hunt."

It was moments like these that reminded Eileen of why exactly she preferred to work alone.

"Looked to me like you were breaking quite the sweat." The Hunter dared.

Not liking her tone, Eileen narrowed her eyes, a pointless gesture given that her face was concealed, though the air about her had a funny way of expressing her annoyance.

"Now are you going to back off, or are you going to kill me. Make up your mind."

Eileen lowered her hands and took a step back, watching irritably as the Hunter grabbed one of her shoulders and rolled it gingerly.

"Funny that we would be hunting the same prey, yet never once cross paths... Odd, is it not?" The stranger quipped, seemingly raising an inquisitive brow.

The lighthearted nature of her tone was beginning to get under the Crows skin. And if she didn't know any better, she could almost pick up a faint smell of alcohol.

"What's more odd is the nature of your prey. What sort of a Hunter pursues other hunters?" Eileen's voice was calmer now, and she crossed her arms, her mask making her appear as stoic as ever, when truthfully she was still seething on the inside over the escape of her mark.

"I could say the same for you. What's your excuse?" The woman replied coyly, walking back over to the decks edge and studying the waters again, her hand absentmindedly brushing over her pistol.

"It's my job." Eileen answered more crossly, getting tired of the stranger dodging her accusations. "And you?"

The Hunter sighed sorrowfully and proceeded to sit cross legged at the piers edge, never really looking back as she spoke.

"I reallywanted that scarf."

Eileen never thought that as a grown woman it would be difficult to resist the urge to push someone over the edge of a pier into freezing cold, beast infected waters, yet here she was, fuming silently under a full moon and ready to call the night a failure. 

"Unbelievable." She muttered, feeling a sudden drain of energy and leaning her back against the large wooden pole, ignoring the stiff rope that dug into her shoulder as she did. Now that the excitement had died down, she was really beginning to feel the extent of her injuries. 

"You in need of blood?" The woman suddenly offered, and Eileen looked over to see her holding up three blood vials between her fingers. 

She shook her head silently, the mere thought of another drop of blood enough to make her sick. Years of heavy blood using had that effect sometimes.

"Hmm. That's a first in this town." She mumbled, storing the vials back into her coat pockets. 

"You say that as if your'e not from around here." Eileen ventured without much though, noticing this made the Hunter go oddly quiet.

Her curiosity piqued, she took a moment to actually study her appearance. A gray coat and pants, a small pouch around her belt, and a Hunters cap fitted with a common mask that covered half of her face. Typical Hunter apparel really.

A blonde ponytail protruded from the back of the mask, a fashion sense Eileen never considered very smart for a hunter. The upside to never actually staying dead meant taking a fair amount of risks apparently. 

She also noticed suspiciously that the girl had no weapon on her, save for a pistol strapped to her hip.

"Well." Eileen spoke flatly, suddenly eager to take her leave. "I have somewhere to be. If ya plan to stay all night, I'd beware of your surroundings. If the poor bastard doesn't drown by morning, he's bound to wash up somewhere."

"What did you say your name was?" The stranger asked, ignoring the obvious farewell.

"I didn't." Eileen muttered, already making her way back towards the city.

The stranger tapped her fingers rhythmically over the wooden floor before bidding her farewell. "Happy hunting."

The Crow gave no response, instead retrieving a couple of blood vials from one of her pockets as she departed. As much as she disliked using the blood, she disliked being fussed over even more.

Hopefully Gascoigne and Henryk would be in better shape than herself, and better spirits.


	4. A Reunion of Sorts

"Ah, I see ya two have been up to no good." Eileen remarked as she finally happened upon Gascoigne and Henryk limping home in the still dark wee hours of the morning.

It didn't seem fair that Henryk was usually the one left helping the big oaf home, given that the Minister was unnaturally large, far taller than the yellow garbed Hunter. But there he was as usual, the Father's arm wrapped loosely around his neck, supporting the giant as they made their way home.

"You're looking as lovely as ever Eileen." Gascoigne mused tiredly, looking up to flash her a crooked smile. "I can smell the blood from here. Trying night?"

"Nothing a few vials can't fix." She assured him simply, nodding a silent greeting to the other.

Henryk wasn't typically a man of many words, something she liked about him. Joining the duo at the Father's side, Eileen took Gascoigne's free arm and pulled it over her shoulder as well, much to Henryk's relief.

"Ya seem to'ave outdone yourself this time Gascoigne. Meanwhile your poor wife's been worrying herself into an early grave."

"Viola?" Gascoigne mumbled in a barely audible distant tone.

"Aye." She continued, watching her footing so as to not stumble over the uneven cobblestone. "She's going mad over the rumors that've been spreading about. Apparently she can't reach family in old Yharnam. I told her I might 'ave a look."

"You didn't have to do that Eileen. But thank you."

"You can thank me by gettin' home earlier. Ya can't raise a family hunting beasts all night long." She muttered, adjusting the arm behind her neck. God, was the man heavy. "I'm starting to wonder which one of us married the lass."

Gascoigne chuckled upon hearing this.

"You'd make a far better husband than I, that I'm sure."

The self demeaning statement earned the man a gentle nudge to the ribs and a small scoff. He sounded very tired despite the wisecracks, and Eileen felt a bit guilty for lecturing the poor man.

"I don't mind too much if ya spend the nights choppin' up beasts, just make sure ya get home in one piece, y'hear? Physically and mentally speaking."

Gascoigne nodded weakly and bowed his head again as they walked down the barren streets.

"And what of your hunt Eileen?" Henryk suddenly spoke up for the first time that night.

She answered with a hint of irritation. "Dead. At least, I hope. Jumped into the water right as I was about to finish him off."

"It's not like you to leave such loose ends." Henryk teased lightly, the smile in his voice ever so present.

"Couldn't be helped I'm afraid. The hunt brings all manner of distractions apparently."

"Distractions?"

"Some woman appeared out of thin air, a Hunter I presume. Seems she was hunting the same prey."

"Odd." He replied, and Eileen hummed in agreement until she felt the Father suddenly patting her shoulder gently with his hand.

"Don't let it get you down.You're not the first to be distracted by a woman." Gascoigne spoke up and Eileen's elbow once again found his ribs, not that it stopped him and Henryk from sharing a good snicker.

The Crow thankfully noticed the Father's house approaching in the distance. It wouldn't be much longer now. Soon she would slip away and have a days rest before setting out into the night once again. 

Henryk was right about one thing, loose ends were something she could not stand. So if a few nights of patrol meant righting her wrongs, she would gladly do it.

As Henryk knocked on the heavy wooden door, the orange sun began to rise slowly in the sky, flooding the decrepit city with a golden glow far more beautiful than it deserved. 

The nights strain must have been finally been taking it's toll, since Eileen could almost swear she spotted a figure watching from an alley down the street before she was ushered into the safe confines of Gascoigne's house by a very concerned wife.


	5. Drunken Brawls

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, a detectable note of suspicion in his voice as the Hunter situated herself at the bar and pulled down the mask hiding her face, setting her cap onto the countertop.

"Gin." The Hunter requested tiredly. She glanced behind her with a testing expression, well aware of the stares of the drunken company around her. A particular group of men a few tables back seemed to be discussing her arrival in hushed voices and even the women in their laps seemed a mite disgusted.

Now that hunters were becoming the new topic of chatter, her kind weren't exactly met with warm greetings it seemed. The air had turned to distrust the moment she had walked in.

"That all?" He inquired with narrowed eyes and the Hunter nodded silently, not in the mood for much talk.

"Most come in looking for blood as well." The server announced gruffly as he grabbed a dusty bottle and a glass that had a faded red ring around the middle, a reminder of the towns insatiable lust for blood. Fortunately, being a Hunter usually meant having low standards for cleanliness as well. "But I'm figuring you ain't like most folks."

"Is it the attire, or the one wearing it? Or let me guess, perhaps both?" There wasn't any aggression in her voice, save for a spot of fatigue. Wearing a hunters outfit in public probably wasn't the best move, but there were drinks to be had, and time not to be wasted. It had been a long night, and an even longer day had followed it, and now, sadly, night had arrived again. The lack of proper sleep was beginning to take its toll, but a quick visit to the Dream would surely fix this. 

After a quiet drink of course.

"Hm." The man grunted, sliding her the glass. "Well as long as you're paying there'll be no trouble here."

She responded to this by reaching into her pocket and dumping a handful of gold coins onto the counter, a few of the rounded edges coated in dried blood. The mans eyes widened for a moment and he set the bottle down with a pleased smile. Her eyes fell on the dark crimson bottles behind the counter, and she felt the urge to change her mind. Years of suppressing this itch kept her true though, and the man chuckled suddenly, pulling her gaze.

"On second thought, why don't you just hold onto this." He suggested, setting the bottle down and scooping up the money without a seconds delay.

The Hunter nodded and raised the glass to her lips, swishing the piquant liquid around in her mouth before allowing it to slide down her throat, welcoming the burning feeling that followed it.

The display didn't go unnoticed. She figured one of the men from the back of the room must have felt offended in some manner, otherwise he wouldn't have felt the urge to stagger over to the bar and stand against the counter, leaning obnoxiously far into her personal space.

"What's a sweet like you doing with so much coin? And in a place like this?" He motioned a hand over to the room as emphasis, and a few of his friends cheered and whooped in response to the gesture. The whole thing was painfully bothersome, as if he were trying to fit the bill of a drunkard.

"Got it off a man I killed." She replied, finishing the drink in one swig and hoping he would wander off.

"Is that so?" He mused, apparently not seeming to care that she had just implied murder. Irritation bubbled up in her chest when he began to toy with the red scarf sticking out of her pocket. "And I suppose you got this abnormal outfit from him as well? Doesn't seem like the sort of thing a proper lady ought to wear-" 

"Now, I hope you ain't bothering a payin customer." The bartender spoke up, pausing from his task of lining up glasses on a back counter to lecture the drunk.

"Just having a goodnatured talk, one paying customer to another!" The man laughed loudly and threw a heavy arm over her. Her shoulders stiffened instantly, something he either didn't notice or didn't care about. The putrid smell of blood and alcohol on his breath violated her nose as he continued to blabber.

"My buddies over there got quite a scare over you, but if ya ask me they're acting like a bunch of dick-less poltroons. Figured I'd come on over and show them there ain't nothin to be scared of." The man cackled and began to twirl a lock of hair on her shoulder. 

With a few taps of her fingers over the counter top she quickly quelled her quickly rising anger.

She reached for the bottle and poured herself another drink, motioning to the bartender for a second glass. He seemed to disapprove, but obliged her anyways, setting another cup down for her to pour. The drunken man watched skeptically as she slid the glass to him and then returned her attention to her own drink.

"That's awfully kind of you Miss...?" He slurred, holding the glass up for his buddies to see, resulting in more loud encouragement and even some giggles from the ladies. 

The hunter didn't answer the request for a name and eventually he gave up waiting and instead downed the drink in one go, setting the glass down with an obnoxiously loud thump.

"Well, I can't say I've ever had'a woman buy me a drink before. Are there intentions I should be aware of?"

"Think nothing of it." She spoke with not an ounce of emotion, growing suddenly impatient and shrugging the mans arm off when he continued to linger. "If I'm going to have to kick your ass, I want you drunk as a skunk."

The mans dopey grin slowly fell as he processed these words before grumbling something about a whore under his breath and stumbling back over to his awaiting group. Meanwhile the bartender wandered back over, discreetly leaning over the counter and addressing her.

"You probably should have avoided that." He informed her in a hush voice. "These folks are your typical ruffians. Getting into all sorts of trouble lately."

She looked back over at the table and noticed they were whispering amongst each other again. The one who had just walked off locked eyes with her for a moment, an obvious degree of blood lust in his gaze.

"Hmm. Probably should have." She agreed with a regretful sigh, finishing her drink once more and standing up. It would have been easy to just ignore him but once again she found herself incapable of basic thought. Instigating things further was probably her specialty by now, and she figured it was time to go before thing grew more tense.

"If you're heading out, I suggest you take the back door past the bathrooms. Won't make it so obvious that you're leaving."

The Hunter gave a subtle nod in response.

"Excuse me, but might I ask where the lavatory is?" She asked in a normal tone now, straightening out her jacket and adjusting the hat back over her head. The bartender smiled and pointed a thumb towards the left side of the counter and she nodded a thanks once again.

"Watch my drink then, I'll be right back." She bid him a secret farewell, setting one last gold coin onto the table hidden under her palm.

"You bet."

The Hunter made her way quickly down the narrow hall and out the door that was promised to her, gratitude on her mind for the display that the bartender had put up, even if he had only helped her out of the greed in his heart. Avoiding confrontation was probably for the best anyways. The last thing she wanted was Church hunters swooping in and imposing punishments for making a scene. Not that she'd stick around long enough to be anywhere near their presence though.

The back alley seemed long, and darkly chilly with the fresh new night. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and pulled her mask back up to hide her face from the biting cold.

A comforting haze settled in her brain from the alcohol, numbing her thoughts and most of her body along with it. Most nights began in a manner like this, but usually without half as much conversation and with much more to drink. That would probably explain why most of last night was a messy blur, the only thing she could clearly recall being a strange person in a pale white mask.

She walked like this for quite some time until the alleys opening was finally in sight. From here she hoped to find a quick path to the nearest lamp before the night got too late. It wasn't smart to run so low on supplies, something she usually took care of before the dark's arrival.

The incident from the bar was all but gone from her mind until the faint silhouette of two men appeared at the end of the alley. She assumes the best at first, perhaps they're just two drunk friends on their way home. But the silence that weighed heavy in the air as they drew closer made their intentions painfully obvious. She turned back, deciding that leaving was a better choice than possibly fighting off two people in an empty alley. She could recall a rusty ladder she'd past not too far back, perhaps providing a quick escape to the rooftops if necessary. However a few steps in the opposite direction quickly slowed her walk and she noticed in the darkness that two other shadows were approaching from the other direction as well.

 _"Fuck..."_ She muttered, coming to a stop and waiting for them to approach. There wasn't much else to do, or to go for that matter at this point. The men stopped on either side of her, still a distance away and apparently not ready to make any sort of move. She wondered if the bartenders advice could have actually been a play to get her exactly where they wanted her. If so, it was a foolish move on her part to be so trusting.

"You've got some nerve walking in like you own the place, doll." The voice of the man from earlier spoke up and she noticed the faint shine of a knife reflecting in his hand. More shockingly though the person by his side was a child. 

"What are you playing at." She pressed and the man seemed to enjoy the skeptical tone of her voice.

"We came across little Jim here playing by his porch and figured we would have him join us. For a little fun you know? Even promised him a sliver for his troubles." He added cheerfully, clapping a friendly hand on the kids shoulder.

The Hunter stayed quiet, the reality of the situation beginning to set in. Though it was difficult tell exactly in the dark, the kid seemed no more than ten. He appeared more confused than scared really, leading her to believe he didn't understand what was really happening.

' _What kind of an idiot child would follow these vermin into a dark alley...'_ She wondered irritably, choosing to stand quietly and wait for the situation to unfold. So far it was not looking good, and whether or not the weapon in his hand was for show, death was the last thing she was worried about. The man turned the knife over in his hand, keeping it hidden at his side from the kids view.

"But the problem is, our friend here has a thing about guns. He doesn't like em much, you see? Isn't that right Jimmy?" He asked, kneeling down to his height and patting a hand on the kid's shoulder.

"Uh...-yeah." The kid replied timidly, his expression growing more nervous at the mention of a firearm.

"You see? Gives him the willies. We noticed you got a nice piece on your belt there. Why don't you go ahead and throw that back to one of my pals there. You wouldn't want to scare the kid, would you?"

The Hunter turned her gaze back to the child, and saw the sudden fear in his eyes when he spotted the gun on her hip. The irony of her being the one the boy feared was infuriating to say at the least. After a few seconds of going back and forth in her mind, she finally decided that she didn't have as much faith in her aim as she'd previously thought.

"Of course not." She replied finally, unhooking the pistol and holding it out to her side for show, repeating his words. "Wouldn't want to scare the kid."

She threw the weapon backwards and it slid to a grinding stop over the uneven ground before being picked up by one of the bystanders behind her.

"I think it's time Jim went home." She added sharply, and watched the knife closely for any sign of movement as the kid looked up to the man with a questioning gaze.  "It's not safe to be out this late." 

She kept her eyes locked on the blade as he tapped it against his hip with a thoughtful look, not that it mattered much, given she was nowhere near fast enough to stop him from killing the child if that was his endgame. Something told her that even these lot weren't vile enough to do such a thing though.

"You heard the nice lady." He spoke, tossing a silver coin to the kid who fumbled to catch it before adding more strictly. "Get goin."

The child looked back to the Hunter, painfully oblivious but still sensing something wasn't quite right. A quick sideways nod of her head told him all he needed to know though. Without a word the kid turned and jogged down the alley towards where they'd come, dissapearing into the fog rising from the holes in the curbs.

Silence passed as they waited for the shrill footsteps to fade. When they finally did, the cowardly drunk was the first to speak up, his tone much less friendly now that the child was nowhere in sight.

"You think we didn't notice Charlie giving you that bit of advice over there? The greedy fuck'll help anyone out long as they got coin in their pockets." 

Still she said nothing. The passive attitude quickly made him even more maddened.

"Grab her." He barked shrilly to the two behind her.

The brutes responded fast, diving in to grab her arms. The Hunter snarled when the first one tightly grasped her arm and she immediately delivered a hard blow to his jaw with her free fist. His head snapped back with a dull crack that left her hand throbbing. He stumbled backwards with a string a curses and barely a second had past before the other man was on her.

Not wanting to make the same mistake as the last, he grabbed both of her arms by the elbows and pulled them back roughly, trying to pin them in place, and she grunted when a foot then hit the back of her left leg, forcing down on one knee before she could send a foot back towards him. The Hunter quickly responded in kind by slamming her head backwards and bashing the man's nose, and he cried out as blood began to run down his chin.

" **Fuck!** " He screamed, but much to her irritation he only gripped her arms tighter. "I think the cunt broke my nose!" 

"Quit your cryin' and hold her down!" One of them yelled back angrily.

Before she could attempt another escape, a debilitating kick to her stomach stopped her in her tracks, draining all of the will in her body for a few painful seconds.

The attacker retreated instantly away from her, satisfied with the revenge for the punch he had received and the Hunter doubled over and lost her breath, and her struggles finally ceased.

"Hold her down, damn it!" The ringleader shouted to him, eager to get the situation under control before she recovered from the attack. She was slowly trying to straighten back up when another brutal blow hit her, this time a fist striking the side of her face.

Her vision blurred upon impact and her head began to spin, barely registering the man in front of her cradling his now bruised hand and cursing under his breath.

"God, you really are a vexatious wench." The man before her growled as the Hunter finally went still, the only sound she could make at this point were shaky rasps and rugged breathing. The surprisingly forceful kick to her stomach did her no favors, and she wouldn't be surprised if a lower rib had cracked.

"Now," He continued, his ragged breath finally slowing as the excitement fell dramatically. The two men behind her hoisted her up, but her head continued to rise and fall, far too heavy and murky to to properly support itself. It was difficult to make out the details of his face in the dark backstreet, aside from his messy brown hair and unkempt appearance, so she focused instead of the golden pocket watch slowly turning on a chain from his belt, searing the image of it into her mind. Many Yharnam men wore a watch, but she doubted few had the large initials A. T. on the back. "What's your affiliation with the Church then?"

A look of hostile confusion crossed her pained features as she considered the strange question with a leery glance up in his direction.

"The Church?" The words came out more hoarse than she'd have liked, but it got the point across.

" _Yes,_ the church." He replied sternly and grabbed her jaw roughly to force her head back up as it started to dip again from exhaustion. He wretched her mask down and cold biting edge of a blade pressed against the skin of her neck, and her heart began to beat even faster. "We know your kinds been working undercover or some nonsense. Something to do with this sickness I hear, and the murders that have been gettin' more frequent. You with them ministers that approached us yesterday?"

"W-what? What are you-?" She stuttered, not expecting this line of questioning.

"Don't play dumb with me bitch, you know what I'm talking bout. Two official looking blokes, looking for strapping young citizens for some sort of hunt. Me and my boys told em to shove off. They your people?"

There was a pause in the air as the men awaited her answer. It was then abruptly broken by the Hunters cracked laughter.

"They asked you lot? To hunt?" She snickered unbelievably and laughed even harder despite the strain in put on her ribs. "They might as well be recruiting rats off the streets!"

Another anger fueled punch hit her, this time hitting the side of her already bruised ribs. This hindered her sense of humor dramatically.

"And what's your story then, eh? They recruiting at brothels?" The man sneered, angling her head up to face him once again when she doubled over with a groan. "Tell us what the hells goin' on, and you might leave this alley with all your teeth intact."

"I do know one thing-..." She answered obediently with a short cough, and a pleased smile formed on his face when it looked as though she'd comply.

"You spineless idiots wouldn't last one night out there."

His smile quickly disappeared and she anticipated another blow.

Oddly enough it didn't come.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoy having a knife at your throat." He remarked in a strange low voice, trailing the steel from her neck to the collar of her shirt.

She closed her mouth upon hearing this, only responding when the knife sliced the ribbon fastened around her collar in one swift cut. The Hunter jerked forward with a vicious snarl and the man flinched away, glaring up at the two who where supposed to be keeping her in place. One of them nodded in response, grunting as he delivered another painful blow with his knee to her already tender side. 

"Don't be like that darling." He cooed, and disgust managed to find its way into her cloudy mind when he began to toy with the buttons of her coat. "I think we deserve a little something for our troubles, don't you agree?"

"In all honesty, I'd rather die." She wheezed, completely serious in her words. Dying would no doubt be the best option at this moment. 

The scoundrel ignored her, instead grabbing the back of her blonde hair and jerking her head back harshly, dancing the blade lightly over the exposed skin of her collarbone and then up towards her lower neck.

"I think another drink will do... It's been awhile since we've had a taste of fresher blood." 

For the first time that night real panic began to set in, taking form as a cold frigid touch on her spine that ran down its length. She'd figured the encounter might lead down a path similar to this, but having her attackers be blood crazed as well as depraved was definitely not something she had foreseen. No wonder they were so damn strong.

With her face angled upwards now, she couldn't see his expression any more or what he was doing, but she could hear the sinister smile in his words. The night sky was the only thing she saw now... Funny.

It wasn't often the stars were so visible.

"And besides, it wouldn't be the first time I've drank the blood of a whore."

There was no warning as the knifes sharpened edge suddenly cut deep into her lower neck. She would have screamed had a gloved hand not clamped shut immediately over her mouth, and warm blood began to seep from the wound and travel down her exposed skin, the crimson liquid almost searing hot against the cold surface of her flesh. The only sound she could make now was an occasional breathy whimper through her nose. Helplessness and humiliation wasn't an emotion she experienced often, not even when the beasts sometimes overwhelmed her.

Instinctively her arms shook and her fist clenched until her knuckles turned white, wanting desperately to throw a punch when her violator leaned in and slowly ran a rough tongue over the flesh, lapping up the red substance hungrily. He made a noise that sounded nauseatingly like a moan, and the Hunter already felt waves of defeat as he began bite sharply down over the open wound. Her body jerked and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to heave when he slipped an icy hand slipped under her shirt and ran it over the bare skin of her stomach and up her side, fingernails digging into the flesh. 

"Damn..." He muttered, removing his mouth with the sickening sound of wet lips smacking. "I haven't tasted blood that good since...-" 

"Well fuck, maybe give us a chance, the tart almost broke my damn jaw." One of the assailants chided.

"You aren't the one with blood gushing out your-"

" _Quit_ your bitching, you'll get your-"

One of the men behind her adjusted his stance, and the Hunters eyes snapped open, sensing an opportunity in the sudden shift. Using every bit of strength she could muster, she pushed off of the ground and forced herself to her feet and quickly lifted her leg, slamming her foot back hard in hopes of hitting her mark. 

She had never been so relieved in her life to her a knee snap.

As expected the man with the broken nose screamed and forgot his grip entirely, falling to the ground in a useless wailing fashion, so she focused her attention on the greatest threat first, kicking the man with the knife square in the stomach. The hand disappeared from her skin, leaving her flesh crawling in its absence. He stumbled back with an _oof_ and the shocked expression he wore as he fell onto his ass was a gratifying one. 

"Shit-" The last man standing barely had time to get out a word before she directed her fury to him, sending a solid kick to his groin. This got job done pretty fast, given he let go almost instantly with a cry and fell back against the brick wall.

Her strength wasn't as stable as she had hoped and she fell back down to her knee and clutched her ribs the second he let go of her. Even though she was vulnerable now, none of them dared to approach. In fact, she noticed the one with the broken leg actually seemed to be attempting an escape, if pathetically crawling away could be considered means of escape, that is.  

"You-  _bastards_ -" She spoke gravely, sucking in a pained breath and clutching at the wound over her collarbone and as she stood up on her feet once more. " _You're dead men_." 

The three men still surrounded her, but it was obvious now that they had no further intention of closing the distance. The click of a pistol being cocked caught her ears, almost immediately followed by the deafening blast of a gunshot. The ground somewhere near her feet exploded in a small blast of pebbles and dirt, and she turned back with a lethal look in her eyes to see the last man standing, desperately pulling the trigger of the now empty gun. Realizing he had missed his only shot, he promptly dropped the pistol and took off in a full sprint down the alley. 

"You yellow bastard!" The perverted aggressor yelled after him.

The Hunter sneered and ignored the fleeing coward, turning her focus back to the man with the knife. He noticed this instantly and began to scramble to his feet. 

"Stay back, you- you ** _freak_**!" He warned, holding out the knife shakily as she began to approach him with faltering steps.

"Freak?" She snarled savagely, showing no concern for his threats. "You _honestly think_ that _I'm_ the one fucked in the head here?"

After everything he had just done, it was almost unbelievable he possessed the nerve to utter such words.  _Almost._

"Its all your fault! You and that damn Church!" He accused, taking a few more steps backwards when she showed no intention of stopping. "You retched outsiders are a stain on our city! You think I can't smell the foreign stench on you? You reek of it! You think I don't recognize the taste of your blood?"

The mention of scent only further convinced her of the fact these men were obviously blood crazed. The towns gripe with outsiders only proved their thirst for blood, for it was their descent into beasthood allowing them this heightened sense of smell in the first place. 

"Enough talk." The Hunter growled and the man chose the poorer option of fight or flight, deciding to make a desperate stab at her.

Even in her sorry state she easily avoided the pitiful attempt at burying the blade in her throat and knocked the mans arm aside with her own before planting a forcible punch to his mouth. The thin leather of her gloves didn't prevent his front teeth from slicing against her knuckle, no doubt knocking out a tooth or two from his mouth. The fool landed brutally onto his side on the rocky street, the knife now lost from his grasp a safe distance away, and the Hunter stumbled over to him and let gravity pull her down to her knees, grabbing the man by his coat front and throwing another rage induced punch into his already bloodied face. And then another. And another. Soon she began to lose count.

The only thing that stopped her were the faint whispers and gasps that had slowly began to trickle past her ringing ears. Breathing hard, she slowly ceased her beating and looked up in a confused daze to see what appeared to be small groups of people gathering at the alleys end, no doubt attracted by the gunshot. Distracted by the new onlookers, it took a few crisp seconds of reality crashing back over her to register a budding dull pain in her side before the body beneath her suddenly shifted and pushed her off. The man wobbled for a moment as he tried to stand before getting miraculously to his feet and limping away, apparently now with the mindset of escaping.

A shaky hand explored the area for the source of the sharp burn, coming across the firm metal of a small handle. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the blade had been forced into her side, but it must have been there awhile since there was already a decent amount of blood staining her coat. She drew another shaky breath and she braced her self as she clasped a hand over the knife.

Slowly, she pulled the blade out of her flesh, gritting her teeth for what felt like an eternity before the pointed tip finally slid out. The trapped air in her lungs rushed past her lips immediately and she stayed kneeling like this, catching her breath for a moment before rising standing and bitterly throwing the bloody dagger aside.

A not so gentle reminder as to why she preferred beasts over humans. Beasts typically didn't resort to hidden blades.

Pulling long blades out of one's body usually wasn't a smart move, but walking Yharnam with a sharp piece of metal lodged in one's insides while it shifted with every step was not as appealing as bleeding out.

The citizens watch silently, murmuring amongst each other as she silently retrieved the empty pistol from the ground and strapped it to her belt before fixing the mask back over her face. As she past the last remaining man, she noticed that he was still clutching his leg, whimpering unintelligible words in a fetal position. She paid him no more mind though, too exhausted to feel any more need for violence.

Her eyes avoided the lethal stares the people wore as the crowd parted with her approach, providing an easy means of departure from her most recent hell.

As much as she would have enjoyed tracking the bastard in charge down and finishing the job, the confining atmosphere of the city was starting to suffocate her, and the blood seeping even deeper now into her coatside wasn't very assuring. Not to mention the piercing eyes of the Yharnamites staring daggers into her back. 

They might as well have been carrying pitch forks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted this kinda fast today, so sorry if there's any typos I missed. This chapter I kinda had to write up on my phone so it was a bit more difficult to write.


	6. Fateful Meetings

"Ya don't look to be in the best of sorts." A voice candidly broke the silence and the Hunter reluctantly cracked her eyelids open, wondering how someone had managed to sneak up on her without so much as a sound.

She had given up on trying to make it back to the nearest lamp a long time ago, which wasn't very near at all really. Her pursuits instead brought her back near the city's edge, the same place she had been the night before. Instead of passing through though, she decided that it would be best to just wait it out. After all, the way the water's smooth surface shimmered under the moon was quite lovely.

She sat against the wall of an abandoned shop, hidden mostly from view, and drifted in and out of consciousness for some time. It was actually almost peaceful until someone pulled her from her sleep.

"...Oh," The Hunter remarked, looking up at the outline of the Crow standing in front of her, "You again."

Her figure appeared dark and it was difficult to see her clearly given she was blocking the moonlight now, but the tip of her weapon gleamed in the moonlight, showing the Hunter that it was holstered on her belt. She saw no threat at the moment, so she didn't bother to stand. Not that she could anyways.

"Rough night?" The Crow asked and crouched in front of her, titling her head as she inspected the state of the woman.

"Something like that." 

Eileen moved her head to the other side to allow some of the moonlight to fall onto the Hunter in front of her, revealing the nasty looking laceration on her neck and the bloodied bruises just visible on her face that no doubt continued down under her mask. The Hunter kept still and watched her, silently curious as to why the Crow felt the need to concern herself with her. Perhaps she was wondering whether to take pity in her and finish her off? She didn't get that impression though.

_'It would probably be just a waste of a bullet anyways.'_

"This doesn't seem like the work of a beast," Eileen murmured, more to herself than the Hunter. 

Beasts normally didn't care for lunging at specific body parts, and even if they did focus their attacks on the face, hunters typically placed their heads at top priority when it came to taking a hit.

Well, smart hunters anyways.

"Either you're a lousy Hunter, or something with a bit more brains did this," She added and took a brief look around. If it really was a beast, chances were it wasn't far. But Eileen had a different type of creature in mind. More specifically one who had previously gotten away.

The Hunter noticed her suspicion of the area and responded by reaching into her pocket and slowly pulling the red scarf out. Eileen watched peculiarly as she held it out to her before taking it and holding it up to the moonlight, recognizing it well.

"No," She responded, letting her head lie back against the brick, "Your beast is long dead."

"And the body?"

"What does it matter?" She questioned, not one to concern herself with what happened to the dead after they were slain. The silence made its point though, so the Hunter sighed and answered. "No doubt being fed on by fish by now. It washed up half dead not too far from here. I took care of it easily, and let the waters take him again."

Eileen considered this answer for a moment and then reached back into a pouch on her side of her belt.

"So if my mark didn't do this, then what did?"

"Oh, it's not too irregular," The Hunter replied almost lightheartedly, "Blood, fear, and Yharnam men. Apparently a more lethal combination than I'd expected." 

"I see." Eileen took on a more witty voice, reflecting the Hunters coy tone. "And are these- "men," still with us?"

There was a clink of blood vials. Something that she hadn't picked up on until the familiar burn of a needle being inserted into her thigh with no ounce of tenderness made her flinch and take a small intake of breath. 

"Sadly yes," She spoke sharply, immediately anxious with the sudden liberty the Crow took. The Hunter grabbed her wrist firmly when the feathered woman began to reach for another, speaking with accusation now. "Why are you doing this?"

Eileen looked up at her and let out an almost amused scoff.

"I need a reason to save your skin?"

"You expect me to believe you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart?" The Hunter reprimanded through her teeth and the Crow sharply pulled her wrist from her grasp, not caring much for her misdirected anger.

"Ya got me," Eileen remarked, resting an elbow on her knee and the side of her mask in her hand. She threw her other hand into the air in a fancy way as she spoke flatly. "This is actually the first step to a much grander plan to kill you." 

The Hunter stared for a few seconds and let the tension in her shoulders drop, and she laughed weakly and relaxed back against the wall.

"Is that so."

"Yes. Now sit still." She replied impatiently and retrieved another vial.

"So... I take it you're not with the Church then?" She ventured, revealing her true concern from the very beginning of their meeting.

"No." She answered firmly. "Why? Expecting trouble?"

"I may have, uh... Made a scene," Spoke the Hunter in an almost guilty manner. She moved an elbow out tentatively and found it wasn't as painful to stretch her arm anymore, and the healing properties of the blood were beginning to lift the heavy fog in her mind and make it easier to breathe.

"I should certainly hope so." Eileen administered the third and last vial, the usual limit for most serious injuries, and stood up. "And where is it these men attacked you?"

The Crow held out a hand to her and the Hunter watched it for a moment before choosing to ignore it, instead using the wall as support to get to her feet. 

"I appreciate the help, but-" The Hunter grunted as she stood and Eileen lowered her hand and crossed her arms instead, ready for whatever thickheaded response the Hunter was about to give. Typically the only thing a Hunter loved more than blood and a good hunt, was their pride. "And not to seem ungrateful of course, but this is my business to handle. I don't see why it should concern you...?"

"The teeth marks." She replied, nodding slightly to the thin red lines of the freshly closed wounds.

"What of them?" She asked impatiently and fixed the buttons of her shirt with an air of sudden apprehension, not understanding where she was going with her words.

"They're sharp, and unusually fanged. You said these were men. Your marks say otherwise."

The Hunter stared for a good while before processing what she meant. She sighed with annoyance, completely forgetting the type of prey she apparently hunted.

"These are vermin, not hunters," She said more firmly, emphasizing that she wanted her to leave it be. "I can handle this myself."

"No offense, but if that were true I wouldn't be short three blood vials."

If looks could kill, Eileen would probably have awoken in the Hunters Dream by now. The Crow stood her ground though and waited patiently for her to respond.

"Don't you have more important prey to pursue besides common street rats?"

"You've killed my only mark for the time being." The Crow shook her head, and the blonde suddenly wished she hadn't revealed that the blood addled hunter had been taken care of. "And I've hunted all manner of beast, not just human. Chances are they've gone into hiding by now. And I've become quite skilled at drawing out rats these days."

This piqued the Hunters interest, even if it was much to her irritation. She had never been a very good tracker, especially when it came to predicting the moves of prey that tried to flee, though they rarely did in her line of work considering beasts weren't the type to retreat. Her plan so far was to put a few fists into any familiar face from the bar, but now... maybe there was a smarter way.

"Fine." The Hunter gave in, getting the feeling that it probably wasn't too wise to cross this stranger anyways. "Behind a sleazy bar on sixth. I don't know the name of it but I know where.”

"The Crimson Siren. Not the classiest of establishments." Eileen muttered.

"You drink there?" She asked doubtfully.

"No." 

"...Right... Anyways." She spoke oddly. A few seconds of awkward silence followed and she was beginning to feel unnerved by the fact that she couldn't see the woman's face. Not to mention the prolonged stare. The two pitch black eye holes on her mask made her appear stoic and unsettling at the least.

"These men aren't hunters, and they certainly aren't brave." She continued. "No doubt they are already licking there wounds in some obscure bistro."

"Hmm." Eileen hummed in agreement. "No doubt."

"But-" The Hunter replied sharply. "If it's to be a cooperation, then I will be the one to finish it. Beast hunting is my job after all." 

"Sounds fair, Miss...?" The feathered Hunter requested and offered her hand assuredly.

It was the second time that night someone had asked for her name, but this time she indulged.

"Amélie." She answered, taking the gloved hand firmly and giving a short nod.

"Amélie.” Eileen repeated, and the Hunter picked up on the slight a smile in her voice. "This should be interesting."


	7. Puppet Strings and Puppet Things

"Hello good Hunter." The Doll greeted her, as kindly as ever. 

Awakening in the dream felt much like coming up for a breath fresh air. Any pain, any weariness, any hunger or thirst, was instantly expunged. The only thing it didn't fix was the unsettling uncertainty that clouded in her mind. But, supposedly that was what the doll was for. To soothe a Hunters sickly spirit she had been told once.

"Greetings." Amélie spoke and approached the Doll. She towered very tall over her, one of the many odd things about the Doll that unsettled her sometimes. The unblinking eyes that watched her as she held her hand out was another thing.

"I sense your hunt has gone well." The Doll remarked as she took her hand and channeled the echoes of her hunt to strengthen the Hunters soul. 

"I had a taste of a Hunter tonight. I assumed it would be more difficult to kill, but it proved to be more cunning than a challenge."

"How sad." The Doll remarked sorrowfully, and Amélie felt slight shame by the reply. She hadn't really considered the more depressing aspect of ending the corrupted Hunter's life. It hadn't really helped that he seemed more beast than man when she'd finished him off though.

"I suppose it is. Regardless though, it was an interesting hunt."

"Yet, you seem troubled."

The Hunter pulled her hand away when the Doll let go, nodding a silent thanks. It wasn't often that they shared more than a few sentences. As kind as the Doll was, there was an unnerving aspect to the way she seemed to read her state of mind. And Amélie considered her mind a very private thing.

"Tell me." The Hunter spoke, ignoring her statement. "How many hunters beside me pass through the dream?"

"The dreams sustains many, but you are the only one I know of."

That didn't seem right.

"Really?" She spoke doubtfully. She had hoped the Doll knew something of the newest Hunter she had met. "That can't be right... I know of Hunters on the surface who dream."

The Doll cocked her head curiously and Amélie got the feeling she wasn't quite processing the question.

"This dream is yours and yours alone. There have been others here in the past... It all feels so long ago."

"Your saying they dream elsewhere?"

The caretaker turned her gaze to the distance, and the Hunter followed her look to the pillars in the distance, partially obscured by clouds of mist.

"They come from many different times and places. Each Hunter has a dream. A Doll. Gehrman is the only one who is not fixed in the dream. He is unseen in the dreaming world, yet he serves to advise other Hunters. Such is his purpose."

The Hunter leaned against the iron railings that lined her small piece of heaven and stared at the horizon, trying to get a better glimpse at the tops of these towers. She recalled the old man well, a strangely undefined person who seemed to only exist for the purpose of offering random pieces of questionably useful information. In all honesty she found him stranger than the Doll.

"So that's why he disappears for nights at a time." She murmured, wondering if it was worth using her monocle to examine the structures. They always had piqued her interest, but she had a feeling looks were deceiving in their case. As most things in dreams were.

"Would I ever be able to meet with them? Here- I mean."

"A dream can only ever be seen by its maker. Why the sudden interest in Hunters?"

"...No reason."

She stepped away from the fence, choosing to put the topic to rest. There was a weapon she needed repaired anyhow. She took her time in the workshop, going through her storage and sifting through gems left behind by others before her, most of it rubbish. It soothed her mind knowing there was an eternity to prepare before going back out into the world. There's no rush, given that the night would continue as it had when she awakens, only mere seconds passing since she'd left. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always kinda liked that theory that the towers in the Dream are somehow a representation of other hunters dreams, perhaps from different times or other worlds. Maybe that's where Gehrman always disappears to? Helping other hunters out? That or he is an intense party all night kind of dude.  
> Eh who knows. I like experimenting with lore though. :)


	8. Odd Interrogations

The Yharnam air felt as dreary as ever as she awoke once more in the damp city.  
  
It was decided before they went separate ways that the Hunter would push ahead while Amélie found a lamp and returned to the dream to replenish her supplies. Everyone got what they wanted with this arrangement. Eileen got her head start, and Amélie felt better knowing she wasn't aware of the location of her lamp. Hunters typically didn't tamper with other Hunter's lamps without reason, but there were times when she'd found certain locations unavailable and had been forced to make the trek to activate them again. Or find them destroyed.   
  
She hoped as she made her way towards the bar, this time a saw cleaver gripped tightly in her left hand, that the Crow hadn't managed to somehow find the sickly citizens yet. If she had, she assumed that she would be good to her word and inform her, opposed to taking care of the problem herself. At the moment finding them was all she could think of, and it consumed her entire thought.  
  
The bar still wasn't closed, somewhat to her surprise. Most businesses fell victim to the Church's most recent curfews along with the citizens and she wonders as she studies the creaking sign above the door why this one in particular was permitted to remain open. She opened the door and the warm air that met her face was the only welcoming feeling. It seemed quieter now, and the only person present looked to be dead asleep at a table.  
  
The bartender heard the bell above the door and turned to meet the new customer, and the second his eyes fell on her his face practically lit up.  
  
"Well if it isn't our woman of the hour! Let me guess though, you're not back for a drink, right?"  
  
Amélie sat down at the front bar and set the heavy folded weapon down on the counter with a thud that made a few glasses rattle. It didn't have the intimidating effect that she thought it would, and his calmness was beginning to make her think her knew more than he let on.  
  
"Woah, watch the surface there, that's genuine maple-"  
  
"Did you intentionally send me out to get attacked?" She spoke to the point, becoming more agitated when he grabbed a bottle and began to pour her a drink.  
  
"Ah, right to it then." He mused and slid her a glass which she ignored. "Well, first things first, no I didn't. But I did tell those rats they were gonna get their asses kicked the second they made for the door. And from what I've heard," He smiled almost fiendishly. "It seems you delivered."  
  
He set his elbows down on the counter and scratched his dark beard, leaning towards her with a delighted grin and she pondered how many people in the past had fallen for his charming demeanor and interesting accent.  
  
"Tell me, when you were beating down on the bastard, did he piss his pants?" He asked with a dry laugh. He seemed very amused by the whole situation.  
  
"Word gets around fast." The Hunter finally said, wrapping a hand around the glass and turning it, toying with the idea of indulging herself. She wasn't much in the mood, but it seemed a shame to refuse free booze. "You seem to be very pleased."  
  
"Well, I think I've made it obvious that I hate the bastard's guts. When he's not bumming around here and getting blackout drunk, he's out causing all sorts of trouble. Trouble he tends to bring back to  _my_ bar almost every time." He grumbled. "That being said, his father's loaded, so the guy usually winds up buying rounds for everyone. Brings in a pretty penny every time. Not that I'll miss him once you track him down."

"About that..."  
  
"Yes, yes, I figured you'd come back around here for information. You Hunters usually do enjoy a good interrogation. Sure get's your jollies off." He interrupted her, an almost repulsed expression on his face as he pushed the lethal weapon towards her distastefully with a single finger. "If I'm being honest though, most typically pay for such-"  
  
The shrill ring of the bell above the door cut him off, and Amélie turned in her seat to see Eileen closing the door behind her and keenly examining the room before approaching.  
  
"Well I'll be damned." He announced more loudly now, and Amélie was beginning to find his lack of discretion and booming voice tiresome.  
  
"Took you long enough." The Crow greeted her as she approached them and Amélie ignored the quip and greeted her with a silent bow of the head. The last remaining drunk must have decided that four was a crowd, given he almost immediately stood up with a loud grunt and stumbled out the door, leaving the place now empty. She could have swore she heard him mutter something about “lousy, useless hunters,” but surely he was referring to another bunch of lousy hunters.  
  
"The night brings all manner of surprises. Am I right to assume you're with her?"  
  
"For the time being." She replied, and Amélie noticed a tone of friendliness in her voice now that she was in his company.  
  
"Well then, Miss...?" He said, turning back to Amélie with a pleasant smile. A few seconds of silence passed between them and he glanced from Hunter to Hunter before going on.  
  
"Erm." He cleared his throat awkwardly before regaining his confident composure. "Anyways, you're acquaintance here just earned you some free information."  
  
"I take it you know each other." Amélie ventured dully, stating the painfully obvious.  
  
"Ted has been working alongside hunters for quite awhile now. Having people who mingle closely with the populace is useful. Keeps us on top of rumors and the lesser dramatic appearances of beasts."  
  
This was news to Amélie. Even though she technically was a Hunter, for quite awhile now, she typically worked alone and got her information from people not associated with the Church. Those who worked in groups and had connections seemed to get all the good things, it seemed.  
  
"Pays a pretty penny too. I make an exception for my beaked friend here though, considering she's saved my throat on occasion. Workin' in an establishment that serves blood can have its downsides. Especially when it comes to the- uh, the more bloodthirsty types..." He settled on.  
  
Amélie wasn't very interested in whatever history the two had. In fact, it was beginning to feel more like they were wasting time.  
  
"Do you actually know anything, or are we just going to keep going in circles." She cut to the chase, not overly fond of the chumminess that was beginning to spread.  
  
"Your buddy here is almost as impatient as you." He muttered as if Amelie wasn't sitting right in front of him, and Eileen chuckled shortly before replying.  
  
"What she lacks in tact she makes up for with spontaneous aggression. I think we best get on with it."  
  
"Anything for my feathered beauty." The man straightened immediately and gushed with a dopey grin while clapping his hands together and setting the bottle aside, and Amélie barely contained her groan.  
  
"Oh my god." She grumbled and slumped over the counter, resting her forehead in her hand and taking advantage of the drink in front of her. Eileen watched her silently, not very fond of her tendency to drink before a hunt.  
  
"Alright alright, keep your pants on. The name of the man I assume you're after is Augustus Thompson. I doubt he has any legitimate work considering he's always bragging about swimmin' in his father's money, speaking of which, is the man that runs one of the largest blood brothels in town, so it shouldn't be too hard to track down his old man. Despite his reputation of being a loudmouth though, he keeps his mouth shut about anything that could really get him in trouble. Luckily for us though, he surrounds himself with idiots."  
  
Amélie scoffed and took another drink. "That's for sure." She replied, recalling the two morons he'd trusted to hold her down.  
  
"A couple of days ago some kid got pretty boozed up, and started spilling some interesting tidbits of info about getting shipments of blood. Must have thought he was some kind of hot shot at the time. Apparently their group has an operation down at some abandoned sweatshop."  
  
"Hmm. Marketing unauthorized blood." Eileen murmured. It wouldn't be the first time someone had gone under the Church's detection like this. "Do you know where they're getting it?"  
  
Amélie wasn't very concerned about whatever underground activities they were using to screw over the Church, but she'd be lying if she said she weren't at least a tad bit curious about the implications. Indulging in the Church's blood without restriction had consequences that people either weren’t aware of, or turned a blind eye to, that much was obvious. The men's obsessive paranoid interest in the Church that night made a lot more sense now.  
  
"Haven't the slightest idea. I usually relay this type of information to Church Hunters first, but considering you two seem to have some kind of specific target in mind, I'll let you do with this information as you please. I'm assuming that the mill I mentioned is east of here, about two miles. It's secluded and there aren't too many reports of hunters patrolling that area. Seems almost too perfect."  
  
"Wow. I'm impressed. And here I thought you would be useless." Amélie marveled halfheartedly.  
  
"How touching." Ted replied sarcastically and laid his palms down over the table. "You seem to be the more beast slaying type, so tell me. Is it true the bastard's got it?"  
  
"If these are any indication, I'd say yes." Eileen answered for her and suddenly tossed a couple of yellow bloodied teeth onto the countertop. "Found these where your little "incident" took place.”

The Hunter and the bartender both picked one up and examined them, taking a keen interest in the shape. The not so pearly whites certainly appeared to be unnaturally sharper that most human teeth, an obvious symptom of the scourge.  
  
"That-" Ted began, turning the tooth in the light and then letting it drop back down onto the table. "Is absolutely disgusting."  
  
Despite the disgust in his voice though he seemed almost giddy by the revelation, and even let out another laugh.  
  
"Well if you ask me the bastard is getting just what he deserves. Here's to hoping you put him down like the dog he is."  
  
"Thank you, Ted." Eileen spoke with a gracious nod and turned to leave, but not before addressing Amélie. "I'll make my way towards the mill. You should check the brothel for this Mr. Thompson."  
  
"A pleasure doing business with you, as always." Ted announced and smiled as the Crow left.  
  
"Wait- what? That wasn't part of the-" The door closed behind her before she could finish her sentence. She groaned under her breath and quickly finished the rest of the drink before setting the glass down with harshly. She grabbed her weapon and headed for the door.  
  
"Watch out for that one." She heard Ted laughing as she made her way out the door to catch up with the Hunter. "Trouble follows her around like a black cat."


	9. Parting of Ways

"Splitting up was not part of the arrangement.” Amélie spoke sternly with an out of breath huff as they paced down the alley. “And do you always walk this fast?”

“It saves time.” She replied, and Amélie wasn’t sure which part of her statement she was replying to.

“And what's your plan when you get there?”

“I’ll wait for you of course.” Eileen was not blind to the obvious hints of distrust the Hunter displayed. She was accustomed to that sort of treatment though, so it hardly fazed her. “The shop is sure to be guarded, it would be idiotic to make myself seen. You find out what you can at the brothel, and in the meantime I can stake out somewhere hidden to see what we're up against... And who knows, perhaps your prey ran there. Wouldn't be the first time a man ran to a whore for comfort.”

“That…” Amélie wanted to disagree but… It actually seemed like a pretty solid plan. She sighed dejectedly and tightened the back of her ponytail, muttering under her breath. “I still don't see why I get stuck with the brothel.”

“Don’t be shy, I’m sure they don’t bite... Well, unless you want them to.”

“I wasn't concerned with, what I meant was-... Ugh.” She stuttered before giving up, settling on a scoff instead. A smile formed in Eileen's face when she found the brief floundering amusing.

“Moving on.” The blonde Hunter muttered. “I have a feeling things could get messy later on. If on occasion we both happen to find ourselves deceased, where should we meet?”

The empty silence that followed her question created a strange feeling between the two and Amélie wondered if was really such a strange thing to ask. So far, besides the odd disagreement here and there, she was beginning to feel they were slowly getting on the same page. It was beginning to dawn on her though that something about the Hunter of Hunters seemed... Off.

“Let's just make it a point to avoid that.”

Amélie frowned, knowing very well that dying was commonplace in the hunt. Not preparing for what to do afterwards just seemed unprofessional. Very unlike what she would have expected from someone who seemed so strict when it came to the hunt.

“Alright. Whatever you say birdy.” She muttered. Perhaps the Crow was just a perfectionist? It wouldn't really surprise her in the least.

“Ah, a nickname akin to that of an avian nature. That's new.”

“I pride myself on my originality.” Amélie replied, and enjoyed the the brief chuckles that followed.

It had been awhile since she’d shared a laugh with another person, one that didn't originate from spite or distaste. 

The lighthearted atmosphere began to dissipate as the Crow’s pace slowed though and eventually Amélie found herself even passing her.

Eileen finally came to a stop and looked up towards the rooftops of the close knit buildings that lined the empty alley. She took a few steps back to get a better look and Amélie stopped walking as well, turning to stare at her suspiciously. A few more moments of silence passed before Amélie realized the Crow had no intention of saying what was on her mind.

“What are you doing.” She asked in monotone, annoyed she had to ask.

“I think we’re being followed.” She answered with no trace of subtlety.

Amélie’s eyes immediately snapped up towards the roofs and the down sides of the building, squinting to examine the winding fire escapes and dark windows above them.

If this were truly the case, Amélie hadn’t noticed at all, probably saying something of her overall awareness in general. It was becoming more and more obvious that Eileen might be far superior at hunting than herself.

Perhaps hunting humans did that to a person.

“Then why would you say that so loudly?” Amélie whispered harshly, absentmindedly moving closer to the other Hunter as she glanced around the street. Years of hunting beasts, yet it was _people_ that still managed to cause the hairs on her arms raise. Eileen crossed her arms and cocked her head ever so slightly as she continued to watch, and the Amélie wondered if she could actually see someone up there.

“I figured they ought to know they’re doing a shabby job at it.”

“...Well, instead of criticizing their technique maybe we could, I don’t know, go up there and put a bullet in them?”

“I think a blade would be much quieter.”

“True, true. I never learn.” She agreed, falling in step with their tactic of apparently berating the unseen stalker instead of actually doing something about it.

There was a sudden shuffle of frantic footsteps on metal and a flash of black feathers suddenly shot forward when Eileen took chase, ignoring the ladders of the fire escape and instead climbing from rail to rail. The panicky figure in question quickly disappeared over the edge of the rooftop.

“Wait!” Amélie yelled up at her, almost impressed by how far she had gotten in just a few seconds. “Where are you-?!”

“You know the plan!” She shouted back at her before disappearing as well onto the roof.

Amélie stood in silence, wanting nothing more than to chase after the pursuer as well. She turned with an irritated huff and took off in the direction of her objective, trusting that Eileen would meet her at the abandoned sweatshop as she promised.


	10. The Aid of a Sinner

The pursuer was fast, Eileen would give him that.

She’d followed him over three rooftops, two back alleys, and even through an unfortunate woman's open window at one point, and then back out another more forcefully “opened” window. It was on the roof of the next building that she came to an abrupt stop and watched the dark skyline of the city keenly, brushing a few small shards of glass off her shoulder.

She felt certain now that there's no coincidence the chase is a winding one, and leading her farther and farther from her original target. No doubt it wasn't the intention to follow them, but to lure them away from something. Without another thought she turned and abandoned the game, not wasting another second on the distraction. She kept her senses about her though, listening for any sign of a shadow at her feet as she headed towards the mill.

Not far too from where she was, Amélie had already arrived at the brothel and entered the establishment with a restless feeling.

Being a popular business in Yharnam, and not very unheard of, it was no surprise the place had a sense of elegance to it. Red drapery and beautiful wood interiors caused Amélie's chest ache for a place of similar design, a place of grandeur and class that she had once roamed the halls of many years ago. The feeling passed as soon as it came though, when a pretty freckled young woman with red hair to match her dress greeted her warmly.

“Hello.” She smiled and Amélie returned the greeting and bowed her head respectfully.

“My, my. We get plenty of hunters here, but it isn't often they have such soft features.” The woman cooed and laid a hand thoughtfully on her shoulder and felt the fabric, tilting her head as she inspected the Hunter's appearance. “I must say, you pull the look off quite well. Is it your first time here?”

A small side glance made her aware of the stares from a few curious woman eyeing the new stranger, and Amélie didn't find herself very fond of the sudden spotlight.

“Actually, I'm looking for someone.” She corrected her.

The woman smiled as realization dawned on her and Amélie had to direct her gaze for a moment when her eyes began to wander.

“Aren't we all, love.” The woman laughed heartily and patted the hunter's shoulder in a friendly manner before lowering the hand. “But forgive me for the assumption. Does this person have a name by chance?”

“Augustus Thompson.”

The woman's cheerful demeanor fell noticeably and Amélie arched a brow at the subtle display of distaste.

“I take it you know him?"

“Sorry dear, I know not of this lad. But if it's a man you're looking for, I know of a few fellows you may fancy. Follow me, won’t you?”

The worrisome look she wore didn't escape Amélie’s notice as she motioned for the Hunter to follow and took her hand, leading her up a wooden stair. It was a unsettling, given the sudden whispers and if it weren't for the fact that the woman seemed suspicious of talking in public, Amélie probably wouldn't have followed her in the first place.

“I know who you speak of.” She said finally after she guided her into a small cozy looking room and shut the door behind her. “A real scoundrel that one. He treats the workers here rudely, and has been thrown out many a time by even his own father.”

At this point, nothing about this man really surprised Amélie anymore.

“I really shouldn't be giving anyone information... However, I've got a funny feeling it's in everyone's best interest. But, may I ask, why are you looking for him?”

“He attacked someone yesterday.” Amélie replied, pulling her mask down in light if the new trust despite possible mentioned consequences. “There's good reason to believe he's… Ailing.” 

“You mean…?” The woman appeared shocked, and Amélie figured she possessed an awareness of the scourge.

More and more people seemed to these days.

The Hunter silently assured her with a slight nod and the lady sighed and ran her hand through her hair anxiously. The cheerful demeanor she had shown when they first met was nonexistent now and Amélie became aware of the apparent signs of stress in her features.

“Has he come by here?”

“No. I'm afraid not.”

She frowned. Not the answer she was hoping to hear.

“But,” The prostitute continued. “An acquaintance of his stumbled through no more than a few hours ago. He looked pretty bruised up by the looks of it, and had a pretty mangled leg. As far as I know he's still here... There's a small bar behind the lobby. Most customers prefer to spend their nights there rather than a warm bed. I'm sure you'll find him there."

The Hunter turned made a beeline for the door, but was cut off when the woman instantly threw a hand out and slammed it back shut.

“What do you think you're doing?” She whispered sharply, staring at her suddenly as if she were insane.

“You just said-”

“I know what I said, but you can't go barging down there like a madwoman. At least not until I've finished what I have to say.”

Amélie didn't really have the patience for such things. The longer she waited the more time it would take to get to the shop, and the more time it gave the man a chance to run off. But she stood silently anyways, waiting for an explanation.

“The man I work for, Thompson senior, knows that his son has gone missing. And he knows there are folks out there looking for him.” She spoke more urgently. “He's told all of us to keep our mouths shut, and that if he shows up to hide him away. Especially if members of the Church come knocking.”

So the old man feared the Church. That said a lot about his involvement.

“Then why help?”

“Let's just say I have my own personal vendetta against the bastard... But that's my own business.”

It was funny how a common goal could unite all different kinds of people for the sole purpose of fucking over one particular person. By now it was almost impressive at this point how many people this guy had managed to piss off. Apparently Amélie was farther down on a list than she’d thought.

“But if you go down there now and question him in front of everyone out there it could be traced back to me if word gets out, not to mention yourself. And you've already made notice of yourself just by walking through the front door."

Amélie held her tongue before she could ask why it was she should care, reminding herself that this person was already putting herself at potential risk. 

“Then what do you propose I do?”

The woman faltered for a second. She averted her gaze now, laying a hand against her cheek and biting her lip in thought for a moment, and she glanced around the room until her eyes fell on a window opposite of them.

“How good are you at scaling down a building?”

Amélie grimaced, not fond of the idea.

“Well too bad.” She spoke quickly, grasping the Hunter's arm and pulling her over to it before she could protest. “Besides, it's only one floor down.”

If she had less self control, Amélie would have fought the woman on it, but sadly it seemed necessary, given it wasn't just herself in danger now.

‘ _Why is it always windows?’_ She thought bitterly.

Apparently being a Hunter also meant never using actual doors.


	11. Shadowed Assassinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda like to update in two or three chapters at a time, given most of them can be pretty short and don't progress the story too much. I take my sweet ass time when it comes to my stories layouts.  
> Its a love hate kind of thing, and it doesn't help that so many things change in the story before I finally post them...

“Where's this pretty little lady that wanted to see me?” The drunk man declared loudly as he stepped out into the back alley. The red haired woman closed the door behind her quietly, but not before peering behind her to see if anyone had watched them go out the back way, and Amélie stepped into the light and revealed herself. He didn't seem to recognize her right away so she decides it would be best to jog his memory. She extended her weapon in one loud motion and the sight made the man's eyes widen in fear.  
  
”Oh _fuck_.” He muttered in realization and stumbled back towards the door. The prostitute seemed determined to block his escape and moved in front of the door knob, but the Hunter intervened before he could even get the chance to approach her. Amélie briskly strode towards him and flung her weapon forward with great force, embedding it into the brick wall merely inches from the front his neck and stopping him in his tracks. He groaned and reluctantly turned to face her, dreadfully realizing that he was going to have to talk his way out somehow.  
  
“Look lady,” He started apprehensively, falling back against the wall as if he didn't have an inch if energy left in him to fight. Amélie didn't find the sight much to her amusement. Confronting someone apparently wasn't something he did often unless the odds were cowardly stacked against them. “I'm real sorry about what happened, I didn't really want anything to do with all that, really.”  
  
“Is that so?” She spoke through her teeth. “You two seemed pretty enthusiastic at the time.”  
  
“I didn't know it was gonna get that far, honest I am. I haven't been running with them for that long, I didn't know what the night runs were supposed to be. I-”  
  
“What do you mean night runs?”  
  
“I-I-” The man faltered, seemingly reluctant to talk suddenly. “I'm not supposed to-”  
  
Amélie replied to his very unwise choice of words by roughly pulling the handle of her weapon towards him, and the wall crunched and screeched as the saw shifted in the fractured brick and she pushed the blade against his neck.  
  
“God, alright, alright!” He screamed, desperately clawing at the fist around his collar that she had grabbed to keep him from wiggling away. “S-sometimes a few of the guys go out with the boss looking for fresh blood, usually easy pickins, if it can be found. No one that would be missed o-of course.”  
  
The other woman had been silent up until moment, finally letting out a scoff.  
  
“You lads thought this was “easy pickings?” She marveled, motioning to the Hunter with a nod. “You're all denser than I thought.”  
  
“I told’em it was a bad idea to go after a Hunter, but he wouldn't hear it, the damn idiot! Kept goin' on about settin' the record straight! Now please I've told you what you want-"  
  
“Why take blood from citizens? It’s useless.” The Hunter cut his ramblings off.  
  
“I mean, well,- your average Yharnamite is a heavy blood user, and sometimes we run a little low on inventory when we take a little for ourselves. So on occasion we sort of- add a little water to the milk so to speak. You can’t really tell the diff-”  
  
“God, you lot are sick.” The prostitute spoke scornfully with an expression of utter disgust.  
  
Amélie decided she had enough of this.  
  
“Where is he now and where have you set up shop?”  
  
“Shop? I don't know where that is, they don’t let me-”  
  
“Do you think he enjoys having this head? I think he’d look much better without it.” Amélie turned to the woman and spoke casually, pressing the blade further into his neck again for emphasis.  
  
“Fine, you've made your fucking point!” The man complied when flesh tore and the wound slowly began to seep. He took a few shaky breaths before continuing. You could always count on a coward to tell you what you want to know under the right circumstances.  
  
“They s-set up shop in some abandoned place in the eastern part of Yharnam, not far from this large weeping angel statue.”  
  
This pretty much confirmed what the bartender had told her and Eileen earlier that night, but it still didn't answer her first question.  
  
“And Thompson?”  
  
“We went separate ways a long time ago! H-he was supposed to oversee some kind of pickup of a shipment. I don't know where exactly but I know it's supposed to arrive by boat somewhere. I doubt he’ll show up though considering you all but crippled the bastard.”  
  
“...So you're saying you don't know.”  
  
_“I don't know_!” He repeated desperately and the Hunter sighed and released his shirt and pinched the edge of her nose tiredly. Something about what he said struck her oddly though.  
  
“Wait… You said by boat? Just where are you getting your blood?”  
  
“Well... I, uh, I'm not certain, but I've heard that it’s-”  
  
Amélie jerked away with a gasp when the left side of his head suddenly snapped backwards and exploded in a spray of blood and bone. The deafening gunshot made itself heard half second afterwards.  
  
She pulled herself away from the body with a curse and turned to the woman, who was frozen in place like a deer caught in lantern light.  
  
“GET INSIDE!” She yelled.

The Hunter abandoned the saw blade and the now dead man to grab the shocked woman. She reached past her and turned the knob before forcefully pushing her through the door and there was one last gunshot before she slammed it shut behind her.

The red haired woman's breathing was heavy and she definitely sounded on the verge of panicking as she slowly walked into the room. Amélie grabbed her arms and turned her around to face her, inspecting her red dress and seeing an even darker red stain near her middle.  
  
“You're bleeding, you must have been hit.” She grumbled, ushering her over to a chair urgently. The woman stopped her however and shook her head.  
  
“That- that isn't mine.” She informed her darkly, pushing the Hunter back by her arms so she could see better what she meant. Amélie looked down to see that it was in fact her own blood that had rubbed off on her. In fact there was a rather large blood stain growing larger by the second pooling near her stomach.  
  
“Oh…” The Hunter replied, taking a startled step back and raising her arm as she examined the area of the wound almost too casually.  
  
“St-stay here, I'll get some blood.” She spoke frantically and the Hunter shook her head and leaned back against the wall, the onset of the pain beginning to burn through her torso and down her side now that the initial excitement had died down.  
  
“No need.” She gritted her teeth and pulled out a couple of vials from her pocket bitterly. She didn't expect to be using her supply so early on.  
  
She checked her back first, grateful for the fact that there was both an entrance and exit wound before using them.  
  
“But- The bullet...” She stammered as she watched the Hunter administer the second blood vial.  
  
“Straight through.” She replied with a sigh, relief washing through her when the pain numbed and subsided. “Your lucky it didn't hit you in the scramble.”  
  
“Lucky?!” She scoffed, letting anger take place of her shock now that it appeared the Hunter would live. “I'm an idiot, that's what I am! I've gone and got myself into trouble all over again. I should have known better than to get involved like this.” She spoke regretfully, biting one of her nails nervously as she paced about the room.  
  
“I never forced your hand.” Amélie reminded her, patting her hand down over the fresh blood coating her grey jacket.

Even though the Dream would fix the hole, it was always a shame to see a finely crafted coat torn.

Amélie looked back up to see she had finally ceased her pacing and sat down in the wooden chair, still clearly distressed though.  
  
Despite the apparent display of regret, Amélie hadn't failed to recognize how determined she'd been to help. There was a certain degree of bravery she saw, a trait she never expected to find in a place like this.  
  
“Why is it that you went through all of this trouble in the first place? Just to condemn one man?”  
  
The woman hugged her arms tightly and rubbed them slowly, shaking her head and exhaling almost sadly.  
  
“Let's just say, I haven't much sympathy for customers who don't pay.” She answered and Amélie watched her quietly before pushing off the wall.  
  
“...Thank you for your help Miss. I won't be bothering you any longer.” The Hunter spoke and approached the door, laying a hand over the knob.  
  
“You're going? Out there? Do you have a death wish?”  
  
“Depends on the situation.”  
  
The Hunter took her hat off and opened the door slightly, holding the hat up to the opening and slowly pushing the front part of it through. There was no gunshot. No sounds to imply anyone was there anymore. Or perhaps they were perfectly aware she was baiting a reaction and was waiting patiently for her to come out. She put the hat back on and opened the door.  
  
Even if someone was still there, what was the worst that could happen? An all expense paid, free trip back to the nearest lamp? Not the worst deal.  
  
Amélie stepped out into the still air, examining the alley and the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. It felt eerily silent now, and the body lying atop a stream of blood didn't exactly help brighten the atmosphere.  
  
“What should I do?” The freckled woman called out to her suddenly as she stood, wringing her hands together worriedly.  
  
“I need time to sort this out, but I can’t stay by your side. You're going to have to rely on yourself to keep you safe. Lay low for the next few days, and don't breathe a word of this to a soul.” She answered to the best of her knowledge, grabbing her cleavers handle and wrenching out of the brick, causing a few clumps of the degrading building to crumble and fall to the ground.  
  
She nodded solemnly, smoothing out her dress and regaining a somewhat confident composure.

A fine display of acting, no doubt something she practiced often.

“I'll keep quiet, but I can't guarantee the other girls won't mention your arrival.”  
  
The Hunter retrieved a small pouch of what coins she had left from the inside her coat and tossed it to the woman who fumbled to catch it with a small gasp.  
  
“You would be better off just leaving this cursed city while you can.” She muttered, pulling her mask up over her face.

The woman rolled the small bag over in her hands distantly before she answered.

“Even with all the pain it brings me I couldn't leave. Yharnam is my home… I could never part with it.” She replied with a sorrowful smile, but a smile nonetheless.  
  
Amélie disagreed with her sentiment. Homes were usually meant to be left behind.  
  
She bid the woman farewell and departed, the uneasy feeling of eyes of her back accompanying her as she left.  
  
So far the trip had only really earned her a confirmation of information she’d already known, and it made her gloved hands clench even harder with irritation over her weapon. She began to miss the nights when beast hunting was merely an art of patrol and pursuing.


	12. A Lesson in Trust

Amélie approached the abandoned sweatshop cautiously, not seeing any immediate signs of human activity.

At first glance it certainly does seem abandoned, a perfect location for any kind of underground activities. The building was  _much_ more massive than she’d expected though, and in a sorry state by the looks of it.

As she walked on she found herself coming across the degrading statue of a stone gray angel weeping into her hands that the deceased man had spoke of. Dead vines traveled up from its base like some growing sickness, leaving cracks and crevices in the stone. As she passed it she notices one of the hands had rotted and fallen off at the wrist, revealing half of the angels face underneath.

Eerily enough, the eyes were open beneath them. An empty gaze stared unseeingly into the air and despite the weeping stance, it's face showing no expression or emotion.

Dead leaves and vegetation crunched under her boots with each step. Overgrown shrubbery and trees littered this more or less secluded spot of the Yharnam. Obviously someone had decided the location wasn't worth the effort of keeping the plant life in check, leaving it to grow without consequence along the sides of the building. Nature's way of claiming what little of the world it could back from man, as it always did given enough time.

She circled the towering shop a second time, wondering just where the hell Eileen could be hiding. Her question was answered when a sharp force suddenly hit her shoulder and made her jump in shock.

“ _Ow,_ what-!?” She exclaimed, stumbling backwards and snapping her head up angrily to see the familiar mask of the crow in a window far above her. Eileen place her hands over the windowsill and leaned out, her feathered cape spilling out of the window and fluttering slightly in the wind.

“You could have just to called to me.” Amélie shouted up at her in a more or less hushed voice while she rubbed her sore shoulder.

“Ya didn't hear me.”

“So you threw a rock at me?” She retorted, kicking the decently sized “pebble” with her foot.

“Well I missed the first time.” Amélie noticed with irritation the small shrug she made before she leaned out farther to inspect the surroundings momentarily. “Hurry it up!”

She said no more after this, only motioning for her to follow and then disappearing back into the window.

The Hunter scoffed and threw her hands up. Apparently she expected her to climb the rotting vegetation weaving up the side. Not the most preferable way to go, in her _very_ strong opinion.

Climbing down from one floor up was hard enough. _This_ was asking a lot.

 _But_ , she figured she had little choice in the matter and she didn't fail to notice the urgency in her voice. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Somehow though this thought still didn't ease her fears.

She took a reassuring breath and grasped the thin bark as she pressed a boot into the shrubbery testingly, and watched her footing like a hawk as she ascended. Halfway up her hands grew clammy and she already began to break into a nervous sweat.

‘ _What is it they always say…? Oh right, no looking down…’_

Directing her gaze away from the very far away ground, she instead focused on the vines being used to climb.

 _‘The very old, frail looking vines that could snap at any moment given the wrong amount of pressure-_ ’

She scratched that idea and instead directed her gaze up at the open window, choosing to indulge in her newest fantasy of making it to the top within the next hour or so.

When she grew accustomed to the Hunter's life over the years, she’d expected that with the fear of death no longer hanging over her neck, naturally all other fears would disappear as well. Funny thing is, apparently irrational fears are just that. Irrational.

The second Hunter waited patiently, a hand already extended when the Beast Hunter finally reached her destination and Amélie gratefully took it. When she finally climbed into the window she all but sighed with relief.

“Have something of a fear of heights do ya?” Eileen commented, watching as she straightened her feathered tricorne hat and composed herself.

“I've spent a good portion of life with my feet on the ground. I prefer to keep it that way.” She huffed, pushing away from the window and observing the floor she’d climbed onto. Her relief however quickly turned back to dread.

It wasn't so much a floor, but more of an upper storage area. Thin wood flooring lined the sides of the vast room, save for most of the middle where long planks of wood stretched across uncomfortably wide gaps, providing a convenient view of the warehouse below. The buildings rotted ceiling was even visible from where she stood, with dusty cobwebs lining the wood supports above. Hell, she could probably even reach a hand up to the woods sections and maneuver them if she were completely mental. It was no doubt a playground for rats and birds up there, though.

“Gee, that's…” Amélie began to whisper as she nervously peeked over the edge. She felt nauseous immediately and her head began to spin so she regretfully backed away. “An extremely long fall. Couldn't we have just kicked the front doors in?”

Eileen answered this by silently pointing to the left side of the floor below them. Boxes and boxes of wooden crates were stacked in orderly rows below them and there was only one soul to be seen. A person sitting in a chair with a rifle in their lap and their head slumped forward. They were too far down for her to make out any discernible features besides the large black hat they wore that hid most of their upper body. Lanterns hung on wooden pillars all around the large room, filling it with a soft glow, yet keeping the top floor comfortably dark without making it impossible to see.

“Asleep?”

“So it would seem.” The Crow responded quietly and crouched at the floors edge.

Just seeing someone that close to falling made Amélie swallow anxiously.

She reached into a pocket hidden beneath her crowfeathered cape and pulled out a small watch, studying it for a moment. “Every hour they switch out someone to guard inside. There's three others as well, and they make regular rotations around the grounds. I'm surprised you weren't seen. Dumb luck may be your strong suit.”

The Hunter rolled her eyes, and joined her at her side, albeit much farther from the edge, confident now that they were high up enough not to be heard and she grimaced when the sticky blood caused the fabric of her shirt cling to skin as she kneeled. “I strongly doubt that.”

“I was just about to ask.” Eileen replied in an almost cheerful tone. “Seems your investigation stirred up some trouble.”

She wasn't actually delighted by the sight of what looked like a gunshot. More simply put, watching the same process of four people switching places just to sit down became incredibly boring after the two and a half hours. Frankly, it was about time the blonde showed up.

“I’ll get to that. What of the one who was following us? Did you manage to catch him?”

“I gave up chase when I realized he was leading me opposite of here. I think he may have been sent to distract us... He certainly showed no interest in a confrontation.”

“...So, someone knows what we’re up to then.” Amélie muttered.

“It would appear so. I was able to shake him when he pursued again, but I don't doubt he suspects. It would also explain why two extra people showed up suddenly not long after I arrived… And what of the brothel?”

“Right… That.” She replied distantly, lost partially in thought. Things were beginning to get undeniably strange and the whole charade left an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Since when were hunts this complicated? This _was_ about hunting a beast… Right?

“...One of the men from the alley was hiding away there. Someone interested in our cause helped me to lure him out, but before I could get anything of use out of him, a shot fired from somewhere and killed him on the spot.” Amélie reached into her pocket and pulled her monocle out as she spoke, examining the seemingly endless crates. She assumes they are the blood that had been mentioned.

“He said nothing of value?”

Amélie lowered the monocle and racked her brain harder, trying to think back to his words before the bullets had flown and adrenaline had forced her to forget them. He had said something else, hadn't he? Something about… Shipments. Shipments delivered by boat.

“No.” Amélie spoke finally. “Nothing. He only mentioned this place.”

Eileen nodded, taking her word easily.

Setting her saw down gently, Amélie rearranged the side of her belt for a moment and fidgeted with her gun, moving it so it rested comfortably without digging into her side. Eileen took brief notice of the action, and even more notice of the firearm.

“Interesting piece ya have there.” She mused.

She had noticed from the very beginning of their meeting that Amélie’s attire consisted mostly of very basic hunter items. The gray hunters coat, the feathered cap and mask. Even the saw cleaver, which was naturally popular with most newer hunters and even among the some of the more seasoned hunters. All typical really, besides the pistol, which looked to be an Evelyn.  A very specific type of gun.

“Thanks.” She replied. “I pillaged it off a corpse a few years back.”

“How respectful of you.” Eileen spoke flatly and rolled her eyes, though the gesture obviously went unnoticed.

“Mmhm.”

“Do you make a habit of taking from the dead?”

“Would you rather I take from the living?”

The prolonged creak of a large door below caused the pair to cease all conversation. A minute passed with no other signs of activity and Amélie began to wonder how long they would stay like this.

A silence fell between the two until the Crow suddenly tensed.

“Wait… You said the man you questioned was shot? By someone else?” Her mask turned to her anxiously as she spoke and Amélie stared back at her wooden face oddly, wondering why it was they were revisiting this.

“...Yes…?”

“Did this person follow you?”

“I think I would know if someone-”

A deafening blast erupted from below, echoing throughout the room and causing part of the floor a few feet away from them to explode into the air. In an instant multiple holes appeared in the wood and the yellow light from the room beneath seeped through in thin slivers of light that shone brilliantly in the freshly disturbed dust. A few ravens who were apparently nesting unseen in the rafters above screeched in terror, and a flurry of black wings and feathers shot past Amélie’s shoulder, so close that she could feel the air from their flight sting her cheek. The birds fled out the open window, continuously screeching as they disappeared into the night in a flutter of blurred wings.

The Hunter and Eileen shot to their feet, reacting to the second blast that came almost immediately after the first, creating even more slivers of light in the dark space.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” A man's enraged voice demanded below them.

The two quickly backed away opposite of each other, Amélie stopping at a wooden frame that stretched to the ceiling and Eileen coming to a stop when her back touched the wall. They were careful not to plant their feet too heavy or too loudly and remained completely silent when they came to a standstill.

“You know we aren't supposed to use those!”

Whoever was being berated didn't seem to care, since they fired off another shot. This one was entirely random and much farther from the others, coming dangerously close to where Eileen stood.

Amélie eyed the saw cleaver she abandoned on the ground when she’d retreated and her hand anxiously fell over her pistols handle, unholstering it and pulling it to her side.

Eileen noticed this and raised a finder to her mask in a silent gesture to remain quiet. The Hunter glanced nervously from her to the floor before nodding and reluctantly lowering it, deciding to go along with her plan to wait for the scene to unfold.

“Damn it, I said **STOP!** ”

Another shot rang out, but this time the floor remained unbroken and there were brief sounds of a struggle and glass breaking.

“I’m telling you, she's here somewhere! Don’t you smell that… that scent? The incense?!” A different voice frantically urged.

He sounded highly disturbed and on the verge of madness. Amélie had heard similar voices in the past, among beasts not yet fully turned. The other man was obviously blissfully unaware of this. Or worse yet he was and didn't care. A dead man's folly for sure.

The hunter's blood that ran through her veins immediately sensed the beasthood in his voice, and she suddenly burned with the desire to leave the safety of cover and eradicate the thing, any fears be damned.

This was the alluring compulsion of the hunt, a calling she rarely fought the urge to ignore. The drive that compelled every hunter to twist, and dance, and cut and slice, until their prey was no more than flesh or dust. A cursed song that the drunkest of hunters could only ever hear in the dreadfullest of ends, their hunt becoming all consuming; beastly prey or not.

“They had to have- have... snuck in somewhere! You heard Anderson, he s-said-”

“The only thing up there are those damn birds!” The second man argued back. “You're too fucking paranoid to be here right now. If Thompson finds out you drew attention like that he's gonna skin us both, you bastard... Look, if it makes you happy I'll get up there and check myself.” He suggested cynically. “Now sit the hell down and don't go **anywhere**. And you guys get back outside and make sure no ones poking around after all that noise.”

The man said something more after this, but he was too far down to be heard properly by them. Many moments of silence passed before the heavy steps of a ladder being climbed finally met their ears and the two hunters turned their heads to the side where the faint outline of a ladder they had ignored until now suddenly became their biggest problem. The faint light of a lantern began to rise and the blue eyed hunter saw no point in obscurity anymore.

Amélie silently retreated from the wooden support and began to walk back towards the Crow with the intent of putting an end to the obstacle between her and the beast. Their cover was about to be blown and there was no other choice but to fight. To hunt. It’s all she could have asked for. Surely the Crow would see this.

She stopped halfway though when Eileen quickly raised her hand up and shook her head, motioning for her to stop. She pulled out the watch once more and held it up, squinting beneath her mask to make out the ticking hands in the dark. Amélie shot her an expression of confusion and felt the urge to yell why the time was so important at this moment. The Crow then pointed over to the window keenly and put the watch back in its pocket.

When she hesitated, Eileen motioned again for her to move, this time with a higher degree of urgency.

The Hunter would have argued but there was no time and no point. If Eileen expected her to run now, she was crazy.

Amélie turned to the ladder, the footsteps growing louder with every creak and thud. She raised her pistol, steadily aiming at the top of the steps and prepared to fire at the first sight of the man's head.

It was either shoot the man off the ladder, therefore alerting every person in the area, or fleeing out the window and away from sight and wait for a better opportunity... It seemed the smarter option. Amélie's aim faltered slightly when she considered this.

The only problem with that plan was that Eileen seemed adamant on staying put. Which was irritating considering all she had to do was walk across the room with her.

‘ _Good god womam, I didn't take you for the lazy type.’_ Amélie seethed quietly, angrily motioning for her to follow and the Crow shook her head one last time.

Eileen ignored her completely now and instead unhooked her blade from her belt, averting her focus as if to make a final statement.

She had her own intentions, and Amélie was the only wildcard on the table at the moment, which could potentially ruin said plans.

A dead man couldn't talk after all.

It came down to a split second decision when the light of the lantern breached the area and the man's back suddenly was visible as he climbed the last few steps, still muttering curses under his breath.

For reasons she couldn’t discern, Amélie obediently abandoned her senses, settling on the obvious fact that Eileen's advice had lead her this far in the hunt. Much farther than she could have gotten on her own.

She swiftly holstered her pistol and spun on her heel, her only thought now to slip out the window before the man stood.


	13. The Third Adversary

_‘Why is it always windows?’_

Whether she had to climb into one, or jump out of one, or stand on a thick yet questionably stable vine next to one, her distaste for windows was becoming more of a common occurrence in her life as of late. It didn't help that every breeze swayed her and threatened her grip. She stood with her back stiffly flat against the outer building's wall, one foot on the not nearly as wide windowpane and another entangled in the unattended vegetation that had grown up the buildings side. She scanned the surrounding area of mostly bush and unchecked weeds and wondered if anyone passing would by chance cast a glance up in her direction.

Meanwhile, Eileen watched silently, perched silently up in the rafters, not much unlike a bird. Much to her relief, Amélie had decided to finally hide with hardly seconds to spare. It was more for the blonde's good than her own. She knew there was no way in hell she would have gone along with this plan in the first place, so she didn't bother trying to include her, instead motioning for her to leave. The poor woman could barely climb into a window, much less maneuver around an environment in the open air, several dozens of feet above the ground in an effort to keep the element of surprise. She probably would have just wound up clinging to one of the supports for dear life.

It was actually a pretty amusing image in her mind.

But nonetheless, an upper hand was vital when the enemy had a firearm at their disposable with a reasonable distance to get a few good shots off. And Eileen was not prepared to risk that, even if Amélie was. Not when there was such a conveniently easy way to confront him. She doesn’t blame her though. It's not like the Hunter had anything to lose. It actually reminded her of a certain mentality she used to have as well when it came to the hunt.

She moved quickly and quietly from board to board, careful to place her weight evenly and avoid noise as much as possible. The man carried a lantern and a rifle with him, the candlelight concerning the Crow more so than the gun for the moment. He began to circle the area, not appearing very interested in actually finding anything in the abandoned space. She stopped moving not far from the window Amélie had crawled out of and waited for him to come around.

She’d hunted prey far more cautious and cunning than this, so she had no doubt in her mind the rest of the night's plan would unfold smoothly. If he made too much noise there was always the option to just slit his throat.

The patience paid off and she saw an opportunity as he stopped near a wall to apparently urinate, much to her distaste. He set the gun against the wall and put the lantern near his feet. Without a sound she lowered herself from the ceiling to the floor and approached him silently. She heard him mutter something about filthy jumpy mongrels as he tucked himself in and zipped up his pants and she finally closed in just when he began to reach for the gun. Eileen quickly grabbed a his wrist with a death grip and bent it behind his back, causing the man to cry out in surprise. She grasped the back of his neck with her other hand and slammed him into the wall before kicking the gun aside. It clattered to the floor far from his reach in case he somehow managed to break free.

“Wh-what the hell? Who-?” The man started to stammer and the Hunter quickly set about trying to get the situation under control before he got too frantic, given he was already trying to struggle out of her grasp. She released his wrist and pressed a blade against his back, increasing the pressure of her hand on his neck instead to compensate for the lack of control over his arms.

“If ya value your kidney I suggest ya keep your voice down. Understand?”

The man coughed into the wall when he tried to speak, choosing to stiffly nod his head instead.

“Good, now-”

She barely got a word in before he struggled with more effort, the dumb move of a suddenly desperate man becoming aware of his situation. One of his feet kicked the lantern as he attempted to push off the wall, and Eileen watched with displeasure as it quickly rolled away and disappeared over the edge.

They both stilled as seconds of silence passed before it hit the bottom and a very anxious voice called out.

“ **What the hell was that?!** ”

Eileen sighed and leaned forward again, speaking in a low and very pissed tone.

“Answer.” She emphasized this by twisting the blade and digging the tip through his coat.

“I-its nothing!” He shouted frantically, and the Crow thought his acting could honestly use some improvement.

“ **What**? I can't hear you! Should I come up there…!?” The man yelled back and Eileen twisted the weapon again upon hearing this.

“ _Try harder.”_

“ **NO!…** I'll, uh, be down in a minute! **Shut your** **mouth!** ”

Better.

Silence passed and she assumes the madman had given up on the argument so she moved on with matters.

“I’ll give you a pass on that one considering ya seem very new to this.” She spoke forgivingly, more certain now that her point had gotten across. “Now, as I was saying, I have a few questions. Mind answering them? Or would ya like to try something again?”

The man shook his head again, albeit much more eagerly now.

“First things first. Where are you getting your blood from? And how is an operation like this escaping the eyes of the Church?”

“I don’t actually know where the blood comes from _,_ I-I just guard the shit.”

“Not very well.” Eileen muttered and turned to the window in thought. “...How fond are you of heights?”

Amélie yelped in surprise and almost lost her footing when the upper half of a man's body suddenly slammed against the windowsill and he screamed, a terrified expression on his face as his hat fell from his head and he took notice of the great height. She quickly flattened her back again and turned her cheek to the wall to see Eileen grasping the man's collar with one hand and holding him outside the window. In her other hand she was reading her watch once again and anxiously looking for any sign of patrol.

There were about five minutes to make use of until the patrol came close, and more importantly it would take another six until they reached the front of the building near the front entrance.

She also noticed sadly that there was now a crack in the glass of her timepiece now.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Amélie shouted, grasping at side of the window and praying that he didn't try to grab her leg for support.

 _“Who the fuck is this?!”_ He yelled hysterically and frantically clutched onto the Crows arm and anxiously wondered what kind of interrogation this was.

“ _Shut. Up.”_ Eileen growled and turned to Amélie. “And what does it look like? We came to get answers didn't we?”

Amélie took a few deep breaths, trying very hard not to let her panic show in less appealing ways, such as hyperventilating or passing out.

“If I die like this, I swear to Oedon, I'm going to kill you when I get back. Why couldn't we just ambush him back in there?”

“Do you even know the meaning of the word subtle?” Eileen replied unbelievably, turning her attention fully now to Amélie and her hold on the man lowered as she did, causing him wince. “He had half a rooms distance on us and a rifle!”

“So?! There's much worse ways to die, if he would have even managed to land a shot!”

“Not dying is exactly what we're avoiding here!”

“What the _fuck_ are you two-?” The man stammered, unfortunately finding himself stuck hanging outside a window far above the ground between two very heated hunters.

“ **Shut up!** ” The hunters shouted down at him almost in unison and Eileen shook her head unbelievably, glancing down at her watch again and lecturing herself for getting caught up in arguments where the other didn't even know the full truth.

Now was definitely not the best time to explain such things. It would be another three minutes until the patrol came back around, if she was even correct.

“ _Damn_ , there's not enough time.” She muttered and got straight to the point, threatening him with a sudden small shove. “Just tell me where you're getting your blood, and where Augustus Thompson is. And you'd best do it fast, before I lose my grip.”

“I wasn't lying when I said I don't know! The blood is delivered here from the quarantined part of the city, you won't be able to get there even if you tried!” He explained in a panicked rush of words, looking down ever so often in a frenzy. “That's where Thompson was supposed to head tonight, oversee the shipments or something, but no one's heard from him yet.”

“The blood is shipped from lower Yharnam? By what methods? Where do they store it?” Eileen questioned him relentlessly.

“I already told you, I don't know how they get the damn blood! I just know they store it in some old building disguised as a fish packaging place near the water, It's been this way for years now. That's where Thompson is supposed to be in two days.”

“Years, you say? And how have you avoided the all seeing gaze of the Church all this time?”

“...-”

“Never mind, there's no time.” Eileen grunted when he showed reluctance, dragging him back through the window and shoving him away to grab the Hunter. “Get in Amélie, quick.”

The Hunter wasted not one second on getting back through the window, breathing deeply and resting her hands on her knees as she stood with a slight sway and waited for her heart to slow.

“Walk.” She hears Eileen say and she looked up to see the man backing warily away from her, stopping when he reached the floors edge and taking multiple nervous looks back. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, stuttering some kind of plea as Eileen unhooked her pistol and held it up. The man flinched as it raised but she didn't pull the trigger. Moments of silence passed before he found the courage to speak up.

“...Uh, w-... What now…?”

“ _Now,_ we all stay nice and quiet for the next six minutes.”

“Oh… Okay… Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

The man seemed very confused by this, but he didn't dare question it anymore and remained silent.

Amélie retrieved her saw, unsure as to what Eileen was trying to pull. She was curious though, so she paced back over to the window and peered out for a moment, seeing three more people with lanterns and guns walking not too far from where they were. She came to the realization very late that Eileen had memorized their routine, and used that to her advantage.

The Crow's knack for plans was certainly an interesting thing to watch unfold. Now the only thing thereto do now was deal with the guard and kill the beast. Letting him live didn't seem wise, given he was the only one aware of them at the moment, but for some reason she hadn't ended it yet.

More time past and Eileen raised the watch once more, but with a frown this time. She tapped the piece against her pistol, but with no response from the watch's face.

“Hmm. It seems my watch has stopped.” She spoke idly. “Tell me, do you have one?”

“Y-yes… Do I…? He replied questioningly, not sure if he should lower his arms to retrieve it from his coat.

“If you would be so kind.”

He reached into his coat and pulled a wealthy looking gold pocket watch out, casting a quick nervous glance down at it.

“The time is half past three.”

“Excellent.”

She placed the pistol back onto her belt as she casually approached him, and Amélies mouth fell open in shock when proceeded to kick him square in the stomach, sending him a considerable distance and effectively dropping him to his death. There was only a short scream, which died off instantly when he landed on a large crate below and was replaced by panicked shouting from below.

“That was unexpected.” Amélie commented as Eileen walked back towards her as if she hadn't just nonchalantly sent a man flying to his death. “What was that you were saying about subtlety?”

“We’re leaving.” She informed her, ignoring the snide remark, and Amélie heard more yelling when the front doors flew open and presumably the whole crew ran to investigate the noise. “This is our window, literally and metaphorically speaking.”

“You don't mean…”

“Yes, I do mean. Now go. There are more important places to be than here.” Eileen prompted her and grabbed her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her towards the window once again.

"But- but the beast!"

"We'll come back!" She urged and put more effort into pushing when the Hunter began to plant her feet.

Amélie grumbled a very obscene word under her breath but didn't argue with her considering it was their only option of escape now without being mobbed.

The climb down was even more nerve racking than the climb up, and Amélie took a full minute longer than Eileen just to reach the ground, much to the Crow's impatience. The two took off the moment she touched the ground though, running for the cover of a tree line that would eventually thin out and reach a more or less populated part of the city.

They were drawing closer and closer to freedom when a figure suddenly emerged from the wooded area and the two stopped dead in their tracks, the person immediately noticeable given the brilliantly white color of the attire they wore.

“Uh...Tell me you see this.” Amélie uttered as her breathing slowed, not taking her eyes off of the strange sight. Eileen nodded her head slowly in response, trying to discern who this person was and what their intentions were.

Whoever they were, they were walking calmly and seemingly in no rush, heading straight towards them. The closer they came the more Amélie could make out the appearance of what she presumed to be a female member of the Church perhaps, judging by the distinguished robes. She was clutching a dagger with a strangely large handle in her hand, and it makes her wonder just what sort of weapon this blade has the potential to be when activated.

“That's good, right?” Amélie instinctively moved closer to the Crow, unnerved by her sudden silent demeanor. “Maybe she's here to help?”

Eileen wanted to believe that, but she wasn't so sure. Her gut told her otherwise.

The woman continued to approach without showing any kind of acknowledgment of their concern, and suddenly transformed her dagger into that of a long sword. The obvious act of aggression caused Amélie to take a startled step back. Eileen responded in kind by instantly grasping her own blade and splitting it in two, and Amélie felt very confused by the sudden display of hostility everyone was exhibiting.

“Wait, why are we doing this?” She asked desperately, mimicking Eileen and extending her saw as well, although much more reluctantly. She looked back to the figure and shouted to them in the hopes that there is some sort of misunderstanding. “We aren't the ones you should be fighting here!”

“I don't think she's listening.” Eileen observed grimly. 

Amélie studied her white robes, black hair, and apathetic expression, and oddly enough she noticed her lips moving. It wasn't until she began to draw even closer that they could hear to her soft prayers.

“-and in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them...”

If the prayer wasn't unsettling enough, her steadfast walk was certainly intimidating, enough so that the two even began slowly backing up.

“Is she corrupted?” Amélie questioned.

“That's no blood drunk.” Eileen answered her more urgently when the stranger suddenly began running, perhaps triggered by the fact that they were slowly retreating from her.

The woman was almost upon them now and Amélie readied herself to counter whatever blow was about to come, considering the aggressor seemed mostly focused on her, the woman immediately focusing her attention on the only Dreamer present. She wasn't prepared for how fast it came though when she was suddenly before her in a flash of robes and moving with impossible speed.

She prepared herself for what was certainty about to be a quick death.


	14. Revelations

The Crow was the first to engage when the woman lunged for Amélie, catching the sword's hilt between her blades of mercy and ducking her head to the side to avoid the blade as it came down over her with more strength than she had prepared for. She recognized the very familiar material coating part of the silvery blade long before the first swing had struck and intervened as fast as she could.

“A _warning_ would have been preferable!” Amélie shouted after she stumbled backwards, coming dangerously close to burying a saw in Eileen's back when she suddenly appeared between them.

“This one is _mine._ Stay out of it.” She growled as she slid the blades up the length of the sword and forced the weapon off to the side, the two metals screeching as they scraped along each other's surface. She used the new opening to her advantage and kicked the woman backwards, putting distance between them for a brief moment.

“ _To hell with that_.” Amélie ignored her and rushed past the Crow, seeing an opportunity when the women staggered from the push.

Her weapon came down hard and embedded itself into the top of woman's shoulder with a sickening _thunk._ It came to a stop as it met her collarbone and stained her pure white garb with a shade of red. She drew a pained breath and stumbled once again, swinging her weapon wildly into the air toward the Hunter in a desperate attempt to fend the daring blonde off. Amélie knew most hunters could withstand blows like this, so she immediately followed this by wrenching the saw out and meeting the sword weapon mid swing to parry, and then thrusting the top of her saw forward into her sternum, trying to keep her back at a reasonable space.

It was an odd way to fight with with a saw cleaver, Eileen noticed, but there were more dire things to worry about than her form.

“This is no beast you fool!” Eileen yelled to her as she continued to ignore the warnings.

Surprisingly the woman withstood the attack to her chest with little to show for pain. She blinked backwards at an alarming speed to avoid another swing from the saw, and her weapon transformed unexpectedly a second time as she retreated, which caught Amélie painfully off guard. The curved blade of the scythe extended towards her with little time to react.

“ **Don't get-!** ” Eileen's warning was interrupted by the Hunters pained cry when it sliced into her upper arm. The flesh and nerves screamed out to her in panic as if she had been cut by a red hot blade, leaving a burning sensation in its wake that pierced her to the soul.

Amélie stumbled backwards immediately gripping her arm, watching the woman anxiously for any sign of advance. Instead, she began to busy herself with the administer of blood vials, uninterested in the Beast Hunters shock from the wound.

“What… was that?!” She stuttered breathlessly, shivering as the sensation began to fade to a more familiar sensation of pain. It left its mark though with a sudden deep rooted fear of being cut again.

“Never mind that, we have trouble.” Eileen urged and grabbed Amélie's arm and yanked her back. “Go take care of them, I'll handle this.”

Amélie reluctantly turned her attention back to where they'd come from and saw the patrol rushing towards them, machetes and rifles in hand.

She didn't get the chance to dispute this command given Eileen had already rushed past her, and Amélie wasn't sure if she even wanted to argue with her on this one. She watched the Crow lock blades once more before she took off in the opposite direction, knowing very well that five against two was a deadly confrontation, and if they had hope of killing this person, distractions had to be off the table.

The four men aimed their rifles and began firing off shots at the advancing Hunter. Three of them missed horribly, but one bullet found a path straight into her upper leg. There was no time to reel from the lucky hit though. Amélie quickly took out the first two with one swing, dodging a sloppy swing from an ax and then quickly disposing of the third. The fourth man reloaded his rifle frantically and took aim once more.

The bullet was miles off target and the Hunter was almost impressed by how poor these men were at their job. She felt pretty underwhelmed when the last went down without so much as a fight. They certainly reeked of beasthood, but showed little of the strength and ferocity that came with the sickness.

Eileen felt the last bullet whiz past her mask, a chance encounter that she didn't have the liberty to concern herself with considering the flurry of attacks she was trying to fend off. The shrill rings and screams of metal filled the night air, and though Eileen preferred to fight in seclusion, _this_ was not one of those times. Not when she was being attacked by a supposedly respected member of the Church. If they both died in this field tonight, there would be no witnesses to see it.

She moved faster than any Hunter Eileen had ever seen, and at times it seemed she even disappeared from the air and reappeared somewhere else. The Crow quickly learned from a burning slice to the back that if she suddenly vanished in a blink of robes, it meant she was behind her. She reeled backwards once again from another one of Eileen's attacks, and the scythe suddenly folded back into place again with the whir of gears and springs accompanying it as it snapped closed in an effort to sever the Crows hands between the blades. If it weren't for her quick reflexes no doubt she would be lacking many fingers at this point.

The weapon was one she’d never known the existence of until now, not that Eileen prided herself in having a diverse collection of weapons. It appeared to have a total of three forms, transforming twice. A dagger that could kill men, a sword for slaying beasts, and a scythe that possesses a blade made of siderite, no doubt designed to finish off those who dreamed. This revelation concerned her greatly, but it wasn't something she could dwell on yet.

The weapons material was far from her greatest concern. With every blow Eileen found herself fighting a more defensive battle. A deadly combination of speed and vigor striking without mercy which forced her to constantly miss any chance of effective counterattack.

A true Church Hunter if she’d ever seen one.

After deflecting yet another attack off to her side and struggling to keep the woman at range that allowed her enough time to react, she realized very quickly that fights like this couldn't be won without taking some sort of hit. It always seemed to come down to this in the most intense and evenly matched duels. Seeing who could land the most lethal hits without dying first wasn't the most tactful way to fight, but unorchestrated fights were usually won like this. In fact being a hunter usually _meant_ being able to take damage and use it to your advantage, and if she were going to do so, she would have to do it right. She braced herself when the woman closed in once more and tried to slash the sword across her torso.

‘ _That won't do…’_ Eileen thought quickly, deciding to deflect the attack completely rather than allowing it to land and trying to minimize the damage. It had to be perfect, and it had to guarantee that the opening she would get at the stranger would be instantly lethal. There wasn't much room for error, especially now that she had already used up two blood vials when the opportunity had risen. If the fight lasted too long, she could surely run out.

The Crow shifted her strength to one blade as she caught the sword again, managing to cut open the woman's side in the process of a quick sidestep. It wasn't a very effective attack, but for some reason it prompted her to speak. It was difficult to make out the words due to the fact that the two continued to exchange swings. But Eileen recognized the verses well. Henryk and Gascoigne often spoke the same words during hunts that she’d accompanied with them, adding an almost poetic flair to their nightly routines.

It was far more charming when they did it though, in her opinion.

“...-first was a lion and had the wings of an eagle; I kept looking until its wings were plucked, and it was lifted up from the ground and made to stand on two feet like a man; a human-”

“Hey!” Amélie had stopped a considerable distance away and shot her pistol at the attacker in a moment of stillness, cutting her off from the chant when the bullet hit her shoulder as intended. Planting the bullet in her skull would have been much more preferable, but few Hunters had such skill. Trying to hit specific moving targets in intense moments was hard enough, much less landing a head shot on said target. It didn't help that skilled hunters such as this had quick reactions to the sound of a gunshot. She almost expected to miss in the first place.

The Church Hunter growled, visibly annoyed by the interruption and took a moment to slam her sword down with heavy force over the Crow in an attempt to distract. The second she avoided the attack, the Hunter took off in the direction of Amélie.

“Aw, hell...” Amélie muttered when the Hunter began to sprint towards her, her sword transforming back into the dreaded scythe.

She suddenly regretted having such good aim.

“ _Amélie move!”_  Eileen yelled to her, already chasing down the Hunter that was making a beeline for the frozen woman.

Amélie held her weapon out to her side nervously, choosing to stay put and readying herself as the woman swung in an attempt to behead her.

Fighting hunters was _not_ something she practiced often, in fact mostly never, given this kind of combat being far above her skill own level. She tried to be as unpredictable as possible, deciding instead not to raise her weapon to block the attack. After all, if she had no idea what she was doing, how could the enemy? She dived in low to avoid the swing and tackled her around her middle, sending both of them clashing to the ground. It wasn't an uncommon practice of hers to just body slam the nearest person when in doubt. She recovered quickly thanks to the cushy fall and quickly sat up and pinned the woman down with her legs as she readied her saw.

The success didn't last long when the Hunter responded before Amélie could even bring her weapon down onto her throat, and she grabbed her by her coat and threw her roughly to the side. It was a shocking display of strength from someone who was pretty much the same size as her, and Amélie even rolled a few times from the force of the throw before she finally came to an uncomfortable stop on her stomach. Realizing now the effects of blood loss she was beginning to feel, she silently cursed herself for not using a vial in her rush to return to the fight. Now she wouldn't get the chance, if the crunch of glass she heard when she had landed accounted for anything. By the time she shakily got to her hands and knees the woman was already above her, not an ounce of emotion on her face as she prepared a final blow. Amélie didn't comprehend how she came to stand over her in only four seconds time.

Another pistol went off and this time the bullet embedded itself in the white Hunters back, a red pool of crimson forming over her shoulder blade. Amélie crawled backwards as fast as she could when the woman gasped and faltered, hope rising in her heart as she actually appeared to express pain this time.

The stranger whirled around in time to avoid another offensive from the Hunter of Hunters, and the prayers began again when without warning she suddenly writhed her arm forward and without an onslaught of lustrous tentacles shot forward from her body.

Amélie watched dumbfounded by the godly sight, realizing that this woman was on a completely different caliber than them. She certainly did not expect Eileen to dodge this strangely mystical attack, but she quickly proved her wrong and even managed to cut down over one of them, leaving it wriggling painfully in the dead grass even after the spell ended. If this hurt the woman she certainly showed no sign of it.

“But now ask the beasts, and let them teach you; And the birds of the heavens, and let them tell you; Or speak to the earth, and let it teach you; And let the fish of the sea declare to you.” She accentuated every new preach with a heavy blow, each more fierce than the last, and Eileen wasn't sure how much longer either of them could stand up to what had by now certainly proved themselves to be an full fledged Church member. One who possessed godly abilities and the strength and speed to match.

Her prayers continued without cessation, and Eileen suddenly saw the perfect opportunity being set into motion. Drawing out the battle all this time had finally led to this one moment, the perfect attack.

Her prayer grew louder and more confident when she suddenly retracted her blade once more and thrust the sword forward, aiming straight for her chest. Her words regarded a tone of self righteousness, and she seemed determined this attack would succeed and finally rid herself of her opponent.

“And with thy hallowed great blood as my anchor, I will strike down those before me with holy abolition for-”

Eileen attached her two blades back into one and instead of a parry she used her weapon to guide the sword lower to ensure it wouldn't slice into an organ that could result in instant death. There was no shock to numb the pain as it entered her just below the ribs, a consequence for going against her brains instinct. But she was no stranger to pain and welcomed it as an unwilling ally in the fight. 

She didn't waste a second plunging her weapon straight into the woman's heart. Her now noticeably brown eyes widened in shock from the sudden game ending move and she gripped onto the Crows arm tightly with her free hand, the prayer suddenly lost on her lips and Eileen winced when motion caused the sword slide through even farther. She didn't let this stop her from finishing the job though.

“For who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth; And makes us wiser than the birds of the heavens?” Eileen finished the verse for her with considerable strain in her voice, content to make them the last words her adversary ever heard.

With that she activated the weapon again and split the blades in two, effectively tearing the cold heart in half. The woman's grip on her vanished immediately and she fell dead without another word. Eileen followed her down halfway, catching herself on her knees and quickly dropping her own weapons so she could steady the sword resting within her. She took a moment to force herself to breathe through the searing pain spreading out into her torso, savoring the fact that she’d arouse victorious once again. At least for the time being.

Despite what she had previously thought, the night certainly had  _not_ gone as planned.

Many seconds of dead silence filled the air, and the only sound that accompanied it was Eileen's labored breathing. It didn't take long for the quiet to break though.

“You… You killed her...” Amélie still sat on the ground, staring in disbelief at what had resulted from what felt to her like just a few seconds. “I can't believe you _actually_ …”

She trailed off and got to her feet, clutching her bloodied upper arm as she approached the dead woman and cautiously nudged her side with her boot. The dress was more red than white now, a color Amélie thought suited the foul woman much more.

“I mean, I know of what you hunt, but still, she was using some sort of… Witchcraft, or, or-”

“Amélie.” Eileen interrupted her rambling weakly, still unmoving from where she fell.

The blonde Hunter ceased her stammering and approached her skeptically, unsure of the heavy tone in her voice. She didn't fail to notice the heavy blow she had taken, but it seemed worth it considering the kill she’d managed to pull off.

“...Yes...?” She asked warily.

“I don't dream.”

It took a few seconds for this to sink in.

“You don’t… Dream?”

Eileen didn't respond this time. Instead she began to sink forward and this prompted Amélie into action.

“Woah, woah alright.” Amélie spoke more loudly than she had intended and grabbed her shoulder, crouching in front of her.

The Crow was only trying to reach for a vial, but the Hunter mistook this for her possibly falling dead and reacted accordingly. She ceased her efforts to retrieve the blood from her belt and allowed Amélie to do so instead since she was already taking the liberty.

Amélie felt very relieved for the fact that Eileen still had blood, considering her leg was now stuck with many pieces of glass from her own broken vials that had been smashed under her when she was thrown. She scrambled for as many blood vials that she could carry in one hand and held the handle of the sword steady with her other.

“Just, uh, don't drop dead the second I pull this out…” Amélie spoke unsurely as she administered the first two vials into her leg and then reapplied a more firm grip on the sword and onto her shoulder.

“No promises.” She rasped.

Amélie didn't drag out the process, pulling out the sword in one swift jerk before the wound began to heal. Eileen arched inwards with a wheeze when she did so, and drew a grating breath which Amélie decided to take as a good sign. Breathing was usually a good sign. 

As the dull pain subsided Eileen raised a hand over where the wound had been, feeling a couple of fingers through the fabric of her shirt to test the closure. Meanwhile Amélie used the very last vial and tossed the empty bottle aside, setting her other hand on the other crows shoulder. She leaned her head down to try to get a better look at Eileen's face, an effort she then realized was pointless considering the mask.

“Better?” She asked, wondering if it was enough blood. It was hard to judge expression with the Hunter, given there wasn't one to be seen.

“Yes.” She breathed, rubbing the sore spot with an absent mind. “...Thank you.”

Amélie let out a pent up breath as well and dropped her hands from her shoulder, finding herself at a sudden loss for words. The two sat silently, waiting for the other to say something. When it became apparent that the Crow had nothing more to say, Amélie decided that it might as well be her.

“You are the most skilled...” This caught Eileen's attention and she raised her head curiously. “...And the most _idiotic_ Hunter, I have ever met.”

She responded with what sounded like a light chuckle, and Amélie honestly didn't see the humor.

“You don't meet many hunters, do you.” She spoke quietly and turned her gaze to the weapon. She took the sword from Amélie to inspect it, who gladly handed it to her. Just holding the thing caused her to feel on edge. “We all tend to think with our fists rather than our heads, I suppose.”

 "If I would have known I wouldn't have taken such liberties. Like firing a shot in your direction for example." She chided with an nervous breath.

"I would have told ya if I'd know we'd be met with such a strong foe."

“...I know of many hunters who don't dream, but I’ve never met one so resilient before.” Amélie replied almost awkwardly, as if she were mentioning some kind of handicap. The obvious difference between those who dreamed and those who didn't was found usually in a Hunter's endurance and strength. The Doll ensured this. Without the Dream, a hunter was little more than your average person with a death wish.

“I never said I couldn't.” She corrected her, and Amélie almost flinched when she extended the sword still covered in her blood and smoothed her hand over the scythe's blade. “You learn many things about the Dream as the hunt goes on. But most of all you come to see things about yourself... It isn't too uncommon for hunters to awaken one day and not return.”

Admittedly, there was much about the Dream Amélie didn't know. True, she didn't know many hunters. In fact in the nine years she had spent living and hunting in the different parts of Yharnam, and even beyond the city, there had only been one other she’d shared the hunt with besides Eileen.

“...How did it happen?”

Eileen didn't answer her right away and Amélie thought maybe it was too personal a question to ask.

“Another day.” She settled on, much to Amélie's dismay. 

She feels painfully curious about the whole thing. A lot of things that didn't add up in the past suddenly made sense now. The caution, the need for certain plans, and not discussing potential death in general. She felt almost guilty for assuming the Hunter dreamed. If she would have known before they had allied, she would have probably cooperated much more. She decides to drop the subject though, recognizing her reluctance to discuss it.

“Sooo… What the _hell_ was that about? What did we do to piss off the Church? And what the hell is this?” She motioned towards the scythe.

“Just because she wears a Church uniform, doesn't mean she is necessarily with the Church. Though I've heard of special abilities and powers sometimes granted to highly important members…”

“Well, we haven't exactly done anything wrong. Not that I can recall anyhow... So a rogue? Or a corrupted official?” Amélie ventured.

“Perhaps. But she is not as far as interesting as this.” Eileen murmured. She squeezed a lever near the handle and the scythe folded in on itself, transforming back into a sword and then into rather large dagger. “The weapon itself looks to be made up of typical metals, but the scythe's blade is coated with siderite…”

“...Which is…?”

“A mineral that can sever a Hunter's consciousness with the dream, granting them a final death. Or a final awakening, depending where they are slain. There are only two weapons I know of that have this ability. Mine and another. This is… very rare.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Amélie muttered disdainfully as she ran a hand over the wound on her shoulder, still feeling the jarring effect it had on her mind. “Remind me never find myself on the other side of your blade then.”

A smell of smoke alerted her senses and the Crow noticed it as well.

“That's bound to draw attention.” Eileen murmured.

“We should leave.” Amélie ventured as they watched orange flames beginning to rise higher through the windows of the shop.

“I agree. Let's get ya back to a lamp.”

Eileen stood first, helping Amélie to her feet by her arm and she muttered a thanks in return.

The Beast Hunter never liked these moments. The moments when the action and noise finally died down, and one suddenly became aware of the pain and injuries that racked their body. But even with all of that, she always had the Dream to look after her… She didn't want to imagine what it was like for someone who lived without it.  

“Funny how-” Amélie began with a small grunt as she shifted her weight to her uninjured leg. “You literally get impaled, and yet I'm the one limping away from the fight.”

“I don’t much enjoy being impaled.” Eileen responded dismally. It always left a coppery taste in her throat, oddly enough.

“Me neither. It's a very obtrusive way to die. Although, I find trauma to the eyes to be much less endurable. Grant me a swift death any night… No offense.” She added, not sure if the statement was insulting in the first place.

“None taken.”

Amélie didn't expect the Crow to actually pull her arm over her shoulder and place a hand firmly over her side to support her as they began to walk. She went along with it oddly enough, though the sudden closeness made her tense.

“Uh… Thanks.”

The action was almost a subconscious one by now for Eileen, so she didn't find it as uncomfortable as Amélie did. After many years of fighting alongside other hunters, it wasn't uncommon for her to be the one helping them back to wherever they called home. The Beast Hunter clearly wasn't accustomed to comradeship between hunters, and Eileen wondered if there was a reason she seemed to shun everyone. She didn't dwell on it long though, given it was none of her business anyways.

Regardless of the discomfort, Amélie didn't protest, and even allowed herself to lean on someone for once as they made their way through the treeline and into the shadows towards the denser city. A few passing moments Amélie found herself filling the silence.

“That woman was truly a bitch.”

Eileen laughed through her nose at the statement, her head nodding in agreement.

“Aye... That she was.”

They walked in silence now and Amélie overtime began to grow strangely accustomed to the others company. It wasn't a common occurrence, and the realization buried her into a deep thought as they treaded over dead roots and leaves.

When was the last time someone had touched her without the intention of spilling her blood? Honestly, she couldn't barely remember. She'd spent the last better half of her life as a hunter relying on herself and so far…

It had actually gone pretty well.

“On second thought…” Amélie spoke when the view of the dark city finally came into view. “I can make it back on my own now. It's not far.”

“As you wish.” Eileen’s grip disappeared from her side and she took a small sidestep to allow Amélie to lower her arm and stand on her own.

She ignored the throbbing ache in her thigh as she straightened her coat, reaching back to pluck a leaf from her ponytail when she heard a dry crackle as she moved. “What do you plan to do with that?” She asked when she suddenly noticed the dagger fastened to the Crow's belt beneath her cape.

“I've some ideas. Most of them involve locking it away and throwing out the key. I imagine I'm going to spend much of today asking questions.”

“You know people in the Church?”

“A few. Most low ranking Hunters, but I have ways of finding what I need. And you?”

“Me? I’m going to sleep. The nights been far too long.” Amélie grumbled and turned to leave. She stopped however and repressed a sigh when a voice in her head told her not to leave it at that. It certainly wasn't her own efforts that had led to finding the next location of her prey.

“Thank you, though. For your help.” She spoke earnestly as she turned back to her for a moment.

The Crow held her steely blue gaze for a moment before she bowed her head in acknowledgment of the obvious farewell. She didn't ask if they would meet again as she left, knowing very well the Beast Hunter had no intention of crossing paths with her again.


	15. Third Impressions

Sleep was actually the farthest thing from her mind right now.

Amélie rarely slept at all, the Dream ridding her body of any exhaustion or fatigue in a way that sleep could not anymore. It's only when her mind found itself growing restless that she gave the time of day to set it right.

Instead, she spent the first half of the morning investigating any bar she could find and asking anyone who seemed knowledgeable enough if they knew of a man by the name of Augustus Thompson. It probably wasn't the most subtle way to go about it, but she had little concern for the consequences, her determination making her as reckless as it usually did.

Few people did know though, and those who did, knew of him only lightly.

By midday she felt all but certain that he had to be in lower Yharnam by now. That, or he was hiding away in the sewers like a rat, which didn't seem to all too far fetched. After spending most of the day walking through bars and other shady establishments, Amélie finally had to give up on her search to instead respond to the fascinating rumors of a strange beast lurking the city's lower aqueducts with an odd reputation for avoiding hunters. The creature left little trace of its existence, which made it all the more startling when it suddenly leapt down from the brick ceiling of one the sewer's tunnels and sliced open her throat.

Watching it run off as she bled out in the water was certainly infuriating enough to drive her back to the same spot after she awoke. After three deaths, fourteen blood vials, and a stealthy use of a blue elixir, she finally managed to butcher the strange wolf like creature after shooting its leg to prevent it from escaping.  

By the time she had reached the light of the city streets again, she felt the efforts of the past night and day heavy in her bones. She sat tiredly on a cobblestone curb and watched as the sun began to set low behind the many finely architectured buildings of the city. The season was beginning to grow cold again, something she happily preferred over the humid cramped atmosphere that flowed through the narrow alleys of Yharnam during long spells of heat.

Perhaps there would even be snow.

Amélie scratched absentmindedly at the front of her mask and thought back to what the guard from the night before had spoke of, finding access to the quarantined part of the city. Getting to lower Yharnam sounded like a daunting task. An impossible one actually, knowing the Church.

With a heavy heart she decides that maybe it was best to abandon the chase. No doubt some other hunter would come along and eventually put the foul beast down. And there were plenty of hunters now in lower Yharnam by the sound of it. The only problem now was putting the whole thing from her mind. She considered going home and even arrived there at some point later in the day. When she reached the door however, she couldn't bring herself to open it. A drink seemed preferable at the time, but mostly though she didn't want to risk any awkward conversations concerning her whereabouts.

The next few days passed all too slowly. There were hardly any beasts to be hunted in the dark depths of the city's sewers where she usually patrolled. And any beasts above ground were typically quickly disposed of by more competitive hunters, in a manner much quicker than she could match. Amélie visited the Dream frequently, tinkering with weapons and trying to distract herself with idle yet empty conversations with the Doll. They discussed strange godly spells and useful gems, and the pale being possessed a surprisingly knowledgeable stance on weapon advancements. No doubt something acquired after spending an eternity among beast hungry hunters with a twisted urge to kill in the most effective, or better yet stylish, fashion.

It was on the fourth day Amélie realized that no matter what distractions she indulged in, she couldn't put it from her mind. There were times she felt her blood burn as she recalled the night that she had been forced onto her knees. Making the hunt overly personal wasn't something she typically found herself doing, but this was one of those occasions that it couldn't really be helped. So it was after the day had passed that she found herself making her way towards the closed off entrance of the quarantined part of the city under the cover of night. She waited for about an hour, listening to the loud and grating conversation between two guards about some underground mutt fight. They abandoned their post to sneak off to some bar no less, much to her relief, and she took the opportunity to slink from her hiding spot and inspect the massive gateway 

There was no getting through obviously, considering the heavy metal gate cutting the street in two. She paced in front of it for a moment and examined it. The bars were too close together to squeeze through and too thick to cut sadly, and there was no lever to be seen meaning only specific people were permitted to open the gate.

She taps the metal gate thoughtfully and places her hands under one of the lower horizontal bars and tries her luck at lifting it. It was immediately clear though that it wouldn't budge.

“ _Why are these things always so damn heavy…”_ She muttered aloud and gave in as she rose back up and placed her hands on her hips. She tapped her boot restlessly as she considers the possibility of a less than appealing second option.

“Probably because they aren't to be opened by anyone who pleases.” A voice suddenly remarked and Amélie found the accent to be very familiar.

She turns her attention to her side to see the Hunter of Hunters sitting casually on a wooden bench along the narrow brick street. Eileen had been watching the display for awhile now, an elbow resting on her knee and her chin propped on her knuckles. She tapped a finger idly against the side of her mask until she decided it was about time she spoke up.

“...How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to almost smell the desperation.” She replied with a slight hint of humor. 

“Do you always skulk inexplicably in the shadows, or is that only with me?” Amélie queried as she approaches her.

The Crow straightened her posture as she came to stand in front of her, waiting for the oddly silent Hunter to continue. Eileen half expected her to demand she leave.

Instead Amélie rubbed her forehead with the back of her glove and sat beside her, running her hands over her face as she leaned back against the creaky wood.

“It's been days now.” She says tiredly. “And no one knows anything. Nothing.”

“I've done my own investigating as well…” Eileen replied in light of the recent sharing of info. “Even managed to speak to a Church official.”

“You're not serious.” Amélie spoke with a deadpan voice. “And here I am talking to drunks and whores… Well, what did you tell them?”

“I told them a beast led me there, and that I stumbled unexpectedly across the operation and the Church Hunter. They were very interested in the location, but denied any knowledge of the woman we fought, or her weapon. I was assured there would be an investigation into it though.”

“Oh.” Amélie replied almost sadly. “No doubt some churchie is already there now with an axe in my mark.”

Eileen clicked her tongue tentatively and Amélie began to suspect something else was on her mind.

“I doubt that.” The Crow finally replied ambiguously.

“Why?”

“I may have-… _left_ a few details out.” Eileen spoke aptly, and Amélie watched her skeptically as she suddenly stood. “Perhaps, for example, the shipments that were mentioned to us by that guard. In fact, mostly everything we learned about lower Yharnam.”

“You swindled the Church?” Amélie marveled, hardly believing any Hunter would willingly impede the Church on any matter. Eileen scoffed defensively when she heard this and crossed her arms.

“I would hardly call that a swindle. I simply withheld information, is all.”

“And you did this… why?”

Amélie studied her peculiarly as she subtly glanced around them before answering. She drummed her fingers against her arm irritably as she did, and if Amélie didn't know any better, she’d say the Hunter seemed on edge

“Let's just say, I don't much like having my home ransacked.”

“Oh. Well that's… Unfortunate. And you suspect the Church? How do you know it was them…?”

Amélie really wasn't one to question suspicions on the all seeing Healing Church, but she didn't honestly see the connection yet.

“I didn’t at first. But when asked about the whereabouts of the weapon, I told them I left it with the body. It's no coincidence that someone breaks into my home a day later only to steal nothing. And the only other who knows I killed the Hunter is you, aside from a select few members of the Church.”

“...What if it was me then? I’m sure that thing could fetch a pretty penny among certain weapons dealers.” Amélie offered with a cheeky smile as she crossed a leg over the other.

Eileen immediately laughs, shaking her head doubtfully as she continued to chuckle from the mere notion of it.

“Unless you're suddenly capable of willingly breaking into a window two floors up, I sincerely doubt that. The door was untouched.”

Amélie’s smile dropped. Sadly, it was a good point.

“Technically, I did climb that building.” She reminds her dully. “I think I'm entitled to a bit of recognition for that.” She doesn't mention the fact that she was mostly relying on adrenaline at the time to keep her from panicking.

She leaned forward and rubbed the back of her neck in thought, mulling over the Crow’s words in her mind.

“Why hasn't anyone come to me for it then?”

Amélie thought back considerably to when she had returned to her home, which was empty at the time, to retrieve a pair of clean gloves for a brief moment. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary upon retrospect. Worry suddenly begin to grow in her chest when she imagined some rough type kicking in the front door and finding someone there that wasn't her.

“I didn't mention your involvement. But if ya don't stop blabbin’ your mouth all over town, someone's bound to realize ya played a large part.”

Her fears subsided almost as soon as they had surfaced, and the Crows discretion was certainly a relief.

“…Thanks, I suppose.” She mutters before pausing. “So, let me get this straight.” Amélie postulated and stood up as well, tapping her fingers together pointedly as she spoke. “You suspect the Church of… Espionage...?”

Eileen considers this, thinking it sounded a bit more on the paranoid side.

“...Well, when you say it like that-”

Amélie hushed her before she could finish that sentence and suddenly set her hands firmly on the Crows shoulders with a grin, and Eileen found herself very wary of the sudden glint of excitement in her blue eyes.

“Birdy, that is the most interesting thing I’ve heard you say yet.”

Her wariness quickly turned to that of mild annoyance.

“You flatter me.” Eileen spoke flatly.

“What kind of involvement would they even have in this sort of trade though?” Amélie lowers her hands as she speculated aloud with fascination in her voice. “When they already provide blood to people who happily pay the price for it?”

“Amélie, maybe you should keep your voice-”

“We start poking around, and suddenly this woman shows up ready to take our heads off. That couldn't be a coincidence, right?...”

Eileen got the feeling that Amélie was talking _at_  her now, more than to her. Clearly mystery was the Beast Hunters preferred genre.

“I think you may be looking into this a bit too-”

“I need to get to lower Yharnam.” She announced and suddenly turned to walk off.

“And just how are you going to do that?” Eileen calls after her peevishly and Amélie came to an abrupt stop. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself given she'd yet to consider that seriously.

She thought about this for a moment, grimly deciding that maybe it was time to play the last card she has if she had any hopes of getting through that gate.

“I know someone who might _\- might,_ be able to provide a way. Given some strong convincing.” She suggests with a more or less doubtful tone. Not so much to answer Eileen’s question, but as more of a way to convince herself it is within the realm of possibly.

Eileen hums thoughtfully at this, curious about the prospect. “Excellent. I'm going with you.”

Amélie paused and immediately laughed at this and faced her with a more confident expression now, clasping her hands very properly as she spoke.

“Not necessary.” She spoke pleasantly. “I think it would be best if we part ways from here on out.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” She counters less patiently.

“And what if another Hunter like the one before tracks ya down. What will ya do then?”

“I’ll fight, naturally -”

“You’d be slaughtered.” She retorted sharply, and Amélie almost flinched from the sudden brutal honesty. Nevertheless, she found it an annoying point to make.

“...I don't need you to-”

“But that's besides the point.” Eileen calmly waved off her reply. “I have my own reasons, as well. There's someone in lower Yharnam I’ve been tasked to find. What's the phrase…? Two birds, one stone...?”

“How convenient.” The blonde muttered doubtfully. “Still…”

Sneaking one person through sounded doable, but two just seemed... Excessive.

“Also…” The Crow ventured, unhooking something from her belt. “I might have heard something about convincing. It may not mean much, but considering this is all we have…”

It hit her like a carriage when Amélie saw the previously forgotten dagger from their encounter suddenly waved almost tauntingly in the air. True, it wasn't much in the way of evidence. Despite the fascinating uniqueness of the powerful weapon, it probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone who hadn't seen it in the hands of a rabid Church Hunter. But... considering the nature of the object, and the profession of her informer, it just might do the trick.

“Fine.” She settled with an aggravated breath. “But we’re going to have wait until morning to see him.”

“Splendid.” She placed the dagger back on her belt, her cape falling over it once again and hiding it from sight. "We should probably leave. Its about this time that the guards typically return."

Amélie watched sourly as she casually walked past her, probably very pleased with herself about right now. She half considered putting her pick pocketing skills to use, but it's no doubt that Eileen is probably more observant than the average citizen.

“No need to be so glum.” She spoke lightheartedly. “We’ll be rid of each other soon enough.”

Amélie shoved her hands into her pockets with a quiet huff and fell into step alongside her, resisting the urge to say “not soon enough.”

“Just try not to get done in before that happens. I’d rather not have anyone's blood on my hands.”

Eileen suddenly came to an curt stop and turned to her sharply, raising a finger keenly up to her face and Amélie eyebrows raised from the abrupt change of disposition. Apparently she had touched a nerve.

“What happens to my blood is on my own head, and _nobody_ else’s. _Understand_?” She spoke lowly and Amélie was mildly taken aback by the sudden anger. So much for that ever present cool temperament.

“Right…” Amélie replied and moved the finger aside slowly with her hand as she spoke. “Just don’t expect me to stick my neck out for you in the midst of a fight.”

“Oh, by all means.” Eileen shrugged a shoulder and spoke with a lighter tone for a sarcastic moment before she grew serious again. “Stay out of my way.” 

With that point made she turned away again. It’s pretty obvious to her by now why the Beast Hunter doesn't seem interested in keeping their ever so famous cooperation going. Being seen as a liability was not something Eileen cared much for. It was half the reason she kept her lost Dream to herself, even from her closest comrades. Not an entirely easy thing to do, given their nosy nature's.

She imagines it would be almost demeaning in a sense, being viewed as a burden in a fight merely because she could die. There were very few people that knew the truth though, and she intended to keep it that way for a long time. Hell, maybe even until the day she dies, though that was something she endeavored to avoid by any means.

“ _Yeesh.”_ Amélie mumbled. She was determined though not to let a brief dispute quail her curiosity though.

“So this person... You know them? A Hunter?” Amélie ventured as she caught up with the Crow again. There wasn't much to do now but wait. She wonders if another walk through the sewers might turn up another beast. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try. But there was little talk of Lower Yharnam these days, and she was itching to know how the hunters there fared.

“No.” Eileen answered simply. “Family of a Hunter.”

“I’ve heard some right horror stories of the hunt there.” Amélie mentioned and added dejectedly. “Seems I got stuck in the wrong part of Yharnam.” 

“You beasties are always itching for a good kill.” Eileen mutters to herself.

Amélie's brow furrowed and she felt maybe it was her turn now to be the insulted one.

“So that's what we Hunters are to you, eh? Prey soon to be slain?”

Eileen opened her mouth to respond, but her mind hadn't found the words to say yet. The same argument had been brought to light many times in the past by plenty of Hunters, most of them being folks who hardly knew anything of her, besides what she hunted of course. Eileen doesn't much prefer to discuss the subject with those who aren't close to her. It always left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“No.” She answers finally, and Amélie’s crossness faded away when she detected a hint of sadness in the quiet response. “I will admit though, at times I feel as if I’m surrounded by ticking bombs.”

The Beast Hunter considered the dismal statement for a moment. It seemed a dreary existence when put that way.

“I see." She offered more calmly. "I’m sorry to hear.”

It was not intended as an apology so to speak, but as a consolation in light of the bleak disclosure.

The Crow turned to her oddly and Amélie quickly averted her gaze back to the ground, missing the regardful nod.

She did not tend to discuss her troubles openly, but she appreciated the simple acknowledgment of the tribulation, and even found it to be strangely comforting no less.

Amélie came to a stop and stiffly cleared her throat as she glanced up at the sky.

“It will be morning soon.” She observed and Eileen stopped as well. “Say… We meet back here come midday?”

“Very well.” The Crow agreed and Amélie bowed her head briefly before stepping into the street and crossing with the intention of heading towards one of the her many lamps in Yharnam.

Eileen watched silently as she strolled off. For a few crisp moments she studied the way she walked with her hands in her pockets and her head bowed, her shoulders raised against the cold winds of the city. She blinked when the Hunter disappeared from view and quickly put the image from her mind, seeing an opportunity to rest and prepare for whatever came next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who's tried to complete Eileen's quest line knows how stressful it is trying to gank Henryk before Eileen gets rekted. I imagine Hunters who Dream would prefer to stick to their own kind for this reason. Too complicated.


	16. Jolly Cooperations

“An odd place to go for information.” Eileen observed as the two approached the door of a humble weapons shop, snugly positioned between two other buildings. She also took notice of the small closed sign in the window, which made her wonder if perhaps their timing was off.

“I find it very convenient, given I also happen to live here.” Amélie replied, unexpectedly pulling a key from her pocket and unlocking the front door.

“Oh... An odd place to live as well then.” She added curiously and followed the Hunter as she entered into the cozy storefront. “You own this?”

“Oh god no. I help run it from time to time, but even that is only rarely.”

She examined the shop curiously, noticing that it smells of wood and oil. The display cases mostly seem to sport different types of pistols and guns, and there are actually very few other types of weapons.

“Quaint.” Eileen observes.

“We keep most of good pieces hidden away in the backroom.” Amélie stated as she locked the door behind her, guessing the Crows thoughts.

“We?”

“The man who owns the business. This way, if you will.”

Amélie lifted a wood panel attached to the counter and guided her to a stair in the back room that led to the upper rooms of the shop. When they reached the top they crossed a small yet nicely furnished living room and she led her over to a wooden door with a label that reads ‘ _Study.'_

Amélie approached the door, knocking a few times. There was no answer at first, so she cleared her throat.

“Master Artemis?” She inquired, laying a hand over the knob. Eileen arched a brow at the obvious dignified title, curious as to who this person was to her.

“Yes, yes, come in.” A man urged and Amélie turned the knob and walked into the office space.

“Good afternoon.” She removed her hat respectfully and drew her mask down as she greeted him.

“Ah, Emily! How are you? It's been awhile this time! Three weeks I’d say?” An older chubby man with a thin white mustache addressed her merrily, rising from his desk to cross the messy workplace with a delighted grin in his face.

“Actually, eight days.” She corrected him, making a small _oof_ sound when he quickly pulled her into a hug and wrapped his arms around her, patting her back cheerfully.

Eileen smirked at the friendly display, finding it amusing considering how cold the Hunter typically was.

“Bah, who pays attention to the days of the week anyways.” He jests as he released her with a smile still plastered on his face. He set his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back for a better look before suddenly frowning. “Have you been eating?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She replied quickly and shrugged his hands off, feeling Eileen's eyes on her back. “I'm actually her on business so to speak, so…”

The man glanced past her with a questioning look and his face lit up in surprise.

“Oh!” He exclaimed and quickly strode past Amélie and grabbed the Crows hand to shake it enthusiastically. “Hello there, sir-”

“-Miss.” Amélie corrected him casually as she sat against the desk riddled with schematics.

“I mean miss, of course.” He quicky stated without skipping a beat and suddenly laughed. “Apologies, these eyes aren't quite what they used to be...”

He fumbled to procure a small pair of spectacles from his brown waistcoat and straightened them in the air for a moment before setting them on his round nose and glanced back up, squinting skeptically at her.

“Hmm. Or perhaps they are…” He murmured and Amélie cleared her throat.

“Right. Sorry.” He apologized again, giving another pleasant smile. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Eileen returned the sentiment with a faint smirk, and Amélie was thankful for the pleasant tone in her voice.

Artemis nodded merrily and walked back to his desk to sit as he spoke. “Well, you Hunters keep me in business, as morbid as it sounds, and any friend of Emily is a friend of mine. How can I be of help?”

“We were hoping you have the means to grant us entrance to lower Yharnam.” Eileen requested, her gaze shifting and taking keen notice of the interesting prototypes of weapons that hung on a walls as she spoke.

Instead of taking a seat Artemis stopped midway and slowly stood back up upon hearing this.

“...And why, may I ask, do you wish to go there?”

“Somehow a beast I’m hunting managed to slip through.” Amélie answered him.

“That's impossible. Unless of course the Church is recruiting beasts now. Which would be absurd. Those things are impossible to tame, believe me I’ve tried. Almost lost my arm!” He added humorously and wiggled the fingers on his right hand for emphasis. Despite the joking air, there was indeed a few gruesome scars traveling up the mans forearm and disappearing beneath his rolled sleeve, and the Crow hardly thought he looked the type of man who would attempt to tame a beast. It seems looks really were deceiving.

“He may not have the appearance of a beast yet.” Eileen elaborated.

“I see..." He cleared his throat, the jolly demeanor lessening. "But, why not bring this matter to the Church then? Surely they would be interested to hear this...?”

Silence fell when he asked this and neither hunter spoke up to answer. The weapons builder leaned forward and set his fingertips onto the desk, glancing suspiciously at both women.

“Am I right to assume you suspect the Church of something sinister?” He spoke lowly. Despite his degrading vision, the man was clearly no fool.

“Hear me out-”  Amélie finally answered and pushed off the desk so as to face him.

He held up a hand and cut her off though, looking back down at his papers as he settled back into his chair.

“I will hear none of this.” He interrupted and picked up a pen, a gesture announcing the end of the meeting.

Amélie sighed and sent the Crow an irritated look, silently asking for her to give her a moment.

“By all means.” Eileen assured her and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her, prepared to wait out any argument that might follow. It probably would have been more polite to leave, but she was curious as to how the scene would unfold.

“This isn't about the Church, at least not at first-”

“I don't want to hear of your conspiracies, Emily. You know how close I work with the Church sometimes, we don't have the luxury of-”

“If you will just listen to what I have to say, maybe-” Amélie's tone grew more strained with each interruption.

“I have listened!” He stood up suddenly, and any jolliness he had shown in the past few minutes was gone now and replaced by anger. “Must we always go back to this? We know how this argument always ends.”

“This isn't about proving a point anymore, there's evidence this time!”

“Actually we have nothing. Unless you count our word that is.” Eileen spoke up on behalf of the zero concrete evidence that they actually possessed. Unless one very interesting yet supposedly nonexistent weapon counted. Which in the presence of a weaponsmith would probably be met more with intrigue than suspicion. It was certainly clear now though why Amélie seemed much more willing to work together when the weapon was offered.

Amélie shot the Crow a death glare that pretty much screamed, “not helping” and Eileen cleared her throat and suddenly became very interested in a pistol with a rather large clip underneath it. The Beast Hunter rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her mentor.

“Listen-”

“ _No_. I’ve told you time and time again that I won't take part in this charade.” He spoke sharply.

Eileen glanced back over at the two, not approving of the manner he used as they spoke. Amélie certainly didn't seem the type to allow someone to speak over her, and the Crow found herself growing increasingly annoyed with every interruption she allowed. She held her tongue though, given the argument was certainly steering towards a subject that did not involve her.

“I could tolerate it before, but now you're bringing other Hunters into this act, and no less trying to go against the Church's orders.” He continues sternly in a way that a parent might scold a child. “Now, I know how you were raised, but in this house-”

“ **Art**.” She interrupts him sharply and the man averted his eyes for a moment to the other Hunter in the room before shaking his head and sighing sadly. He sat back down while rubbing his eyes with one hand and leaned back against the chair in a deep thought.

The room grew solemnly silent as they waited for him to speak. Amélie began to think he would ask them to leave so she tried one last time. If this didn't work, there was little else she could do to sway him.

"This is important. And If you have any respect for me, you will let me say my piece."

His tense expression turned to defeat and she could tell instantly that he had given in.

“...Very well. I will _listen._ But I can not promise you anything else.” He informed the two firmly.

“Thank you.” She breathed and paused, wondering just where to begin.

She started at the very beginning. She told him of the shipments of blood coming from lower Yharnam. Of the strange instances of being shadowed throughout the city since they had begun to pursue the blood drunk man and his dark business. And of the Church Hunter they encountered at the abandoned mill. She left out the more morbid details of course. There was no reason to make the old man worry more than he already did.

“And this strange weapon you mentioned. Do you have it?” He asked with a tone of uncertainty.

Eileen approached the desk and set the previously forgotten weapon down in front of them, unfolding the brown leather wrapping the large dagger. His eyes immediately lit up when they fell on the weapon.

“The Blade of Deliverance!” He instantly shot out of his chair and giddily lifted it, albeit in a somewhat delicate manner.

“You know of it?” The Crow spoke doubtfully.

“Well I should think so.” He laughed heartily as he examined it with a strange degree of affection in his eyes. “I built it!”

Amelie's jaw almost dropped when she heard this.

“ _You_ crafted this?”

“I bet you regret turning down my invitation to help me on my projects now.” He replied with a impudent grin and a small laugh.

Amélie fell silent in awe of the sudden revelation. True, she recognized the fine craftsmanship it possessed, but what were the odds? And more importantly that would mean...

“You say ya built this,” Eileen cuts in in light of Amélie’s stunned silence. Apparently she had yet to see the importance of this. “So that means the Church came to you for this?”

“Naturally.” He answers smugly. “Although, they were the ones who provided the chunk of metal used make the scythe's blade. A strange substance, one I've never worked with before, but not too much unlike steel. I could almost hear it sing as I shaped it.” He remembered fondly as he turned the weapon over in his hands.

“Did they say where they got this metal?”

“No… But they did ask me to use it accordingly, given it was the only amount they had of it. When I inquired as to its nature, they only said it was a rare "holy" metal, or some sort of wacko clerical nonsense of the sort... To be honest, I had a hard time listening at that point. The man speaking to me had this, eh, absurd hat on, and it was just so distracting...” He waved his hand in a disregarding manner as mentioned this, never quite taking his eyes off of his reunited creation.

Amélie rolled her eyes as he began to ramble on. The older he became, the more his tendency to do so did as well.

He raised the weapon again to examine the wear, his jolly disposition now fully returned.

“My, my, this has held up rather nicely. It’s always _delighting_ to see my products with a few scuffs and still in working order.”

“Ya know…” Eileen started. “It's strange how when I inquired about the weapon that almost killed me, they denied any knowledge of it. Considering they commissioned ya for it, as you say…”

Artemis grew very quiet when she said this and after a few moments he set the weapon down somberly. Amélie remained silent as well but it took a lot of self control to not leap for joy when the undeniable evidence came to light. She honestly could have grabbed Eileen and kissed her in that moment. Which would have been difficult considering the mask.

He scratched his forehead in thought and sighed wearily, clearly reluctant to believe them. 

“Lower Yharnam, as you know,” He began, and Amélie felt a shining glimmer of hope for the first time as he began to fall in step with them. “Is closed off to all lower class citizens, but they still have people running supplies in and out of the area at specific times. Weapons mostly, and ammunitions...”

“Do you have knowledge of these times?” Amélie questioned.

Eileen already felt herself growing less and less fond of what sounds to be a stowaway plan.

“Yes… But it you’re planning to sneak through, a container for weapons wouldn't do. They check those regularly to make sure all of the inventory is present before and after they arrive… But…” He trails off as an idea began to form in his head. “There is one other thing they are receiving a disturbing amount of. And I see no reason the guards would think to check them, given they are typically empty.”

“Why would they be shipping empty crates?” Amélie pointed out skeptically.

“Not crates.” He alluded. “Coffins.”

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea.” Eileen declared suddenly. “There isn't some other way?”

“Not that I can think of. At least not without risking exposure or making a scene.” He mused.

“I think it's a great plan.” Amélie replied blatantly, a tad suspicious of her sudden reluctance. “When we get there we can just hop out and run for it. Or better yet, wait until the coast is clear to leave. Best case scenario, no one would be the wiser.”

“And what if we get trapped in somehow? What if it takes days until they are used?”

“Ha! Imagine that.” Artemis chortled gleefully and took his glasses off as he laughed to wipe off a smudge. “Death by a coffin. Oh, the irony of that...”

He stopped laughing when he became suddenly aware of the disapproving looks the pair were giving him.

“Erm.” He put the glasses back on awkwardly and abandoned the gleeful expression. “That would be a dreadful way to die though, of course. Dreadful.”

Amélie rolled her eyes and addressed Eileen again.

“So you'd rather hack and slash our way through? That doesn't seem like you.”

“We’ve done nothing but that so far, haven't we? Now suddenly ya want to want to lie low?”

“You’ve what now...!?” Artemis sputtered and turned to Amélie unbelievably.

“ _ **No-**_ no, we haven't. She meant that metaphorically.” She quickly explained to him before returning to the squabble.

He scrunched his round face in confusion, not seeing how that phrase could possibly be used in a metaphor.

“It's a solid plan. What's wrong with it?” Amélie urged.

Eileen put a hand on her hip and rubbed the back of her neck, her feathered cape dangling idly as she swayed in an obvious display of discomfort.

“Let's just say... I'm not exactly fond of small spaces.” She muttered grudgingly.

“...You’re claustrophobic?” Amélie affirmed unbelievably.

“I’m starting to believe your friend here may be an actual crow.” Artemis marveled with a not so appropriate laugh at the sudden reveal.

Eileen glared at him from the corner of her eyes, a look that obviously went unnoticed, and she was beginning to think the man was much to morbidly cheery for his own good.

“She very well may be.” Amélie uttered to him as she approached her and rested a hand in her shoulder. Eileen almost expected some sort of encouragement to come with the gesture.

“Do you remember that time… You made me stand outside a window, miles off of the ground…?”

“ _You?_ Near a window more than a floor up? Preposterous.” Artemis snickered and Amélie ignored the teasing.

The Crow exhaled a short haughty breath in defeat.

“Fine.” Eileen grumbled sharply, annoyed with herself for expecting anything other than blackmail.

“Well! Now that that's sorted out… Lucky for you two, I happen to know the man who makes their coffins. He should be sending a shipment out sometime within the next two days, if I'm correct that is. Business is good for him, as to be expected… Luckily, the old coot still owes me for that time I helped him hide a body.” He chuckled enthusiastically and began to write the address down onto a paper.

“How lovely.” Eileen muttered dismally. Despite the ever rising beast epidemic the city faced, it was always nice to know that Yharnam’s dubious business practices could always thrive.

“Here you are.” He handed the slip of paper to Amélie who happily accepted it. “Just give him this, I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to help. It will be nice to finally rid myself of him anyhow. It's like having something you don't quiet want to throw out, but you don't want either for worry you may need it one day. Thankfully it seems an opportunity has arisen.”

Amélie turned the paper over and read the back, noticing the curious lack of explanation the note provided.

  _All debts paid. -Art_

"And I assume you’ve already spoken to Elizabeth about this?” He added suddenly and the Beast Hunter visibly tensed when he said this. She slowly stuck the paper in her pocket, her eyes flickering to the side.

“Uuh. Actually...”

Artemis scoffed dramatically and threw his hands into the air, and Amélie though she could honestly do without the theatrics. 

“Do you any idea how long it's been now? I expected you would have at least _tried_ to speak to her about this before coming to me.” He accused and Amélie was beginning to feel a sudden urge to get going.

“I think we should really head over to-”

“You know someone on the inside?” Eileen asked Amélie peculiarly. It was certainly news to her.

“My daughter Elizabeth.” He answered for her almost proudly and Amélie rubbed a hand over her face resentfully, not thinking that this is really the best time for him to gush about his precious baby girl. “In fact, its because of her I ever had the pleasure of knowing Emily here. Hah! She wasn't much more than a street rat in those days though!”

He chuckled lightly as he reminisced while Amélie scoffed impatiently at the comment, and Eileen suddenly found the whole thing v _ery_ amusing. And even more amusing was Amélie’s obvious longing as she glanced over at the door.

"How interesting." Eileen mused. "I take it she's there on business then?"

Amélie opened her mouth to object, but it quickly closed in defeat when Artemis instantly spoke up, sensing the opportunity to chatter about his proudest accomplishment.

“Yes, indeed. I wanted my girl to take over the shop, but sadly a hunter's life claimed her first. She ran off years ago to join a group called the Powder Kegs, I believe. Beautiful weapons those lads have, probably why she joined them given she's not much unlike her father. But their, uh...  _methods,_ do leave something to be desired...”

“Your rambling. Perhaps we should go.” Amélie pointed out and inched closer to the door every second.

“I think it's all very fascinating.” The Crow alluded. “Your daughter sounds like a valiant Hunter. The Powder Kegs aren't exactly known for their leniency.”

Amélie narrowed her eyes, quietly disapproving of her encouraging him, but not exactly having the heart the shut him down.

“Ah, yes, she's always been sort of a loose cannon.” He agreed with the observation and paused distantly before continuing. “They were such good friends back in the day. It’s a shame they don’t talk anymore.” He added this with more accusation as he directed this statement to Amélie.

“You don't say.” Eileen mused and Amélie glared even harder when she picked up on the sly smile in her voice.

Eileen decided about then that maybe it was time to cut the poor girl a break.

“...Well, I’m sure you two will want to catch up. It’s been a pleasure, Artemis.” She announced finally and took a step towards the door as she said her goodbye.

“Oh please, make yourself at home. There's warm tea on the stove if you wish.” He called after her and Eileen bowed her head respectfully in response to the kind offer before walking out of the room.

Amélie closed the door behind her and slowly turned and rested her back against it.

“She's a charming one.” He remarked simply into the suddenly quiet air. “Strange accent though.”

She didn't reply to this, waiting silently instead for him to say what he truly wanted to. Artemis tapped a pen against his watch for a thoughtful moment and made a small troubled huff.

“Talk to her.” He spoke quietly and Amélie shook her head uncertainly as she considered his request, moving her gaze to the floor. 

“It's been too long. There's no reason to... And none of this involves her.”

“I’m worried about her. It's been weeks now and she hasn't wrote a word.”

“You known the situation as I do, a lot of people are getting cut off from-” 

“I know, but shockingly that doesn't ease my mind.” He sighed and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. “She used to write every Thursday and now there is nothing. Her commander has answered my concerns, and he tells me she is well, but…”

"So she's fine. Maybe she's just busy. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors as well. Plenty of beasts these days.”

“That very well may be true, but it's unlike her. I know you two have your differences, but I wouldn't ask you to do this unless I were truly worried.”

Amélie bit her lip and continued to stare at the floor, knowing full well that if she looked him in the eyes she would say yes.

“She still asks about you of course.” He spoke with an almost sad laugh and Amélie knew there was no chance of her saying no now. It was hard to fight him on things when he pulled the sappy act. “Don't ever tell her I told you that though. She would kill me for sure.”

She sighed in response and finally lifted her head.

“I can't promise anything but-... I’ll try to find her if I have the time.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and suddenly took her hand and patted it sweetly. “I worry about you child. I worry for you both.”

“There's no need to, Art. You know we can't die.” 

“I’m aware of the strange existence of this Dream, but it isn't your life I worry for, Emily. I fear for your soul as well.”

She opened her mouth to respond to this, but couldn't seem to find the words. She isn't sure what she felt when he said this. Shame? Guilt? Both, probably.

“You disappear for days at a time, and you've all but abandoned your designs. Sometimes when you speak, I can tell you're not really all there. And it just breaks my heart to see your work abandoned at your desk, and to see the seats at the dining table empty. This… Dream, or whatever it is, and this hunt. Just-” He let go of her hand with a frown. “Don't forget to come back to the real world. Don't let this hunt consume you, like it has her.”

“I’m not a child, Master Artemis, I haven't been for a long time. Stop worrying so much, I swear it's all your good for.” She deflected the sentiment and lectured him halfheartedly and he clapped a hand on her shoulder with a hearty laugh. She smiles as well, but she can't help but feel that his jubilant display isn't genuine.

“One day I’ll drop dead from it, and I’ll have you two to blame. Be sure to give Elizabeth a piece of my mind when you do find her, though.”

“ _If_ I find her.”

“Right, right, of course…” He replied and added briefly as he turned away. “And Emily…”

“Yes?”

“Whatever you do, don't make an enemy of the Church.” He warned as if he were merely reminding her of the time and he picked up his pen again. "I feel as if I shouldn't have to tell you this. I'm sure you understand quite well by now the situation you're in. The passage of time means nothing to them, how long you have been here will hold no weight in your case."

She nodded solemnly and bid him a short farewell, telling him she's sure that he has a lot of work to do as she closed the door behind her.

The conversation exhausted her more than any hunt could have, and she took a moment to think before glancing around the room. It appeared empty and she assumes Eileen must have went back down to the shop to wait. She was about to go down the stair when the door to her room caught her eye and she hesitated. Her feet instead pulled her to the narrow door of her room, and she slowly pushed it open and walked over to the middle.

A hollow feeling settled in her chest as she scanned over the neatly stacked books and the odd trinkets and items placed on shelves around the room that she had collected over the years from hunts. She isn't sure exactly what she was expecting to feel when she entered the long abandoned room, but bleak nostalgia certainly wasn't the intention. Her eyes fell onto the desk next to her bed where large pieces of parchment lie untouched for longer than she could remember.

Setting her hat on the desk, she numbly sits down and placed her elbow on the surface and rested a cheek in her hand gently, holding the corner of the paper up as she inspected the abandoned schematics for what was intended to be an improvement upon a weapon she used to own. Her mind drifted off into thought, the lines and illustrations on the paper growing more and more distant as she stared. It wasn't until a sudden brush of feathers swept past her cheek that she was startled out of her absent mindedness.

“Interesting concepts, “ _Emily."_ Ya plan on taking over the family business one day?”

Amélie gazed up to see Eileen above her, a hand resting on the desk next to her arm and another hand sitting on her hip as she leaned over her to examine the drawings. Her feathered cape fell around her in an oddly cozy embrace and the Beast Hunter quickly folded the paper in half nervously.

“Uh, no… I mean, I’ve been his apprentice for a while now, but I don't intend to take over anything… And Emily is a uh, nickname, of sorts. Not my name."

An amused breath found its way past her lips as a memory was suddenly prompted in her mind of when she’d first met Artemis. It wasn't long after Elizabeth had dragged her to the shop for the first time to meet her father, the “best weaponsmith in Yharnam.” She’d expected a brave looking warrior for someone with such praise. Not a round silly man who couldn't fight with most of the weapons he designed if his life depended on it. Despite appearances though, he proved to be exceptionally good with a firearm, teaching her over the years how to acquire aim almost as well as his own.

“When we first met, he said the name was “nonsense,” so he settled on calling me Emily instead. His way of just never admitting he couldn't say the name right.”

Eileen laughed warmly above her, thinking that seems a very accurate portrayal of the man she’d just met.

She found this more privy aspect of the Hunter to be much more bearable. Despite the sometimes grating strain Amélie tended to put on cooperation, it was oddly compelling to see this more human side of the Hunter.

“So I’m right then to assume the gentleman isn't your father.” Eileen speculated, still unsure about the relation. She straightened up and Amélie rotated halfway in her chair, feeling strangely exposed as the Crow turned away and looked about the room.

“No, he isn’t…” She hesitated, initially unsure how much she wanted reveal. “We were first introduced about eight years back, around when I first arrived in Yharnam.” She squinted as she tried to recall the details of that time. “I met a hunter who introduced me to him.”

“This Elizabeth, I presume?”

“Yes.” She elaborates, staring distantly at the wall as she began to twist a ring beneath her glove. “They allowed me a place to stay... And eventually, I never really left.”

“But she did.” Eileen ventured.

Those words prompted a sudden pang in her chest. Apparently the wounds were fresher than she’d thought, despite the years that had passed. Instead of answering the assumption Amélie stood up and situated her feathered cap on her head and walked over to the door, pulling it open farther.

“We should probably get going.” She proposed and waved a hand eloquently towards the hall before pausing in thought. “Unless… You want some tea…?”

Eileen watched her keenly for a moment before following her gesture and walking towards the door.

“No thank you.’ She said simply as she passed and Amélie laughed as she followed her out and shut the door behind her.

“Right, I should have known better… I'm starting to wonder if there even is a face under that mask.”

“I like to keep them guessing.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why oh why did I decide to name my chapters. Why have I done this to myself.


	17. A Swift Fairwell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I'm alive. Life got pretty busy there for awhile, but I finally guilted myself enough into adding some chapters. I have no intention of abandoning my story, but I can't promise I'll always update in timely fashions, haha.

The two walked mostly in silence after they left the weapons shop. The Beast Hunter seemed distracted enough by her own mind, and Eileen didn't mind the quiet. When they did arrive at their destination they were met by the owner of the place, an old man with a rather long beard and an absurdly large hat. He was not very pleased to see the two at first, and wasn't especially keen on the idea of being involved with the whole ordeal, but he was more or less eager to repay certain debts regardless. Much to Amélie’s dismay, he informed them that the next shipment would go out the following night, and to return then.

The two hunters parted ways and agreed to meet then, which was convenient given the Crow received word of another blood crazed Hunter drawing close to Oedon Chapel. She wasn’t fond of hunting during the day, but thankfully she tracked the bloodied woman to a quiet alley, far away from prying eyes, and it was surely an interesting challenge to slay the previous Beast Hunter in such a closed space. The woman bore a striking resemblance with Amélie, and was almost fooled into believing so when she first came across the sight of the Hunter kneeling still next to a wall with her head in her hands. Blond locks stained red at the ends, a saw cleaver, and even a similar attire. She didn’t hesitate of course when she finally ran her blade across the creature's neck after a less than tedious fight. When dark fell again, she used to cover of night to move the body closer to the edge of town, leaving it under a dead tree not far from a murder of crows with a fidgety look in their eyes as they warily inched towards the abandoned corpse. A more gruesome tool of trade the birds were, but a necessary one considering her customs. 

The hunt never put her in the most chipper of moods. Sure it had grown easier over time to get the job done. To grant those who were perhaps once her fellow colleagues a swift end. To act quickly without regard for past devotions, or worse even, affections. She had been generously provided with the tools and know-how to do her job with little effort, but coping with such things was an art in itself, one she had mostly been left to figure out for herself. In her earlier days as a Hunter, it wasn't too uncommon for the faces of her most recent kills to linger on the edges of her mind, leaving a restless feeling in her legs that urged her to occupy her mind with other things. It was easy enough to forget back then through questionable distractions, and people, no less. But with the departure from her Dream came a much greater sense of stability along with a firmer grip on reality. A life with real consequence proved far more substantial than a life without in her experience. 

But sadly, old habits still died hard, and Eileen found herself at Gascoigne's residence not long after this, knocking at their door with that same restless feeling. Her stroll through the city had proved less than eventful and it seemed as good a time as ever to fill him in on her whereabouts for the unforeseen future, and she even hoped that perhaps he knew something of the recent troubling events. She didn't notice that there was no light at the window, and it wasn't until a very tired looking Minister with disheveled hair opened the door that she realized the family had been asleep. He still wore his pajama shirt and pants but with a grey scarf and boots quickly thrown on before he had opened the door.

“Apologies Gascoigne.” She spoke regretfully and gazed up at the soft orange light in the sky. “I didn't realize the morning was so early…”

“It’s fine.” The Hunter replied sluggishly and frowned. “Is something wrong, Eileen?”

It wasn't uncommon for the Hunter to show up at his doorstep at odd hours, but he had learned by now that there were times when she arrived with a grim semblance about her, usually after a trying hunt. A cup of tea and some company typically eased her mind on nights such as these. What he found odd though was that these nightly visits had mostly ceased a few years back. He mostly chalked it up to the days growing busier for all of them, but four years without so much as a friendly supper had him and Viola both wondering why she was suddenly becoming more withdrawn.

“No, no. I just wanted to let ya know that I’ll be in lower Yharnam by tomorrow… I don’t know how long I’ll be gone though, and I wanted to say something in case I can't get in contact. I was hoping you would let the misses know. Perhaps it might put her mind at ease knowing I’ll be in touch with her sister soon.”

Gascoigne blinked sleepily for a moment as he processed this before stepping out into the crisp morning air.

“...And, I assume you're methods of getting there are not entirely authorized?” He ventures as he shuts the door being him, the corner of his mouth pulling into a sly smile.

Despite the fact that Gascoigne served the Church, the Minister had a knack for being a bit unpredictable, one of the many things she liked about him. Though his tendency to do so had drastically reduced soon after he had started a family. Not a surprising shift in attitude, but certainly not one that she had ever pictured him of all Hunters having.

“Something of the sort.”

“You should know Eileen,” He starts, his amusement diminishing as his tone lowered “The things happening there… It's not like here.”

“What have you heard?”

So far, the Minister had seemed apt on keeping his mouth shut about the who thing. No doubt there were people among the Church who had spoken to him about it under the guise of confidentiality, but the time for secrecy between them was long past in her opinion.

Gascoigne doesn't hesitate revealing the rumors to his friend. Now that she was going right into what could only be called a war zone, it seemed the right thing to do.

“Bodies in the streets, children being evacuated and sent to safe houses. Beasts by the plenty roaming the night, and even the day. Almost too many to handle.”

“Then _why_ aren't they sending in more hunters?” She questioned sharply.

“Everyone's asking the same damn question.” Gascoigne responded with a low growl. “Some say the Church wants to keep the situation as discreet as possible. But others…” He trailed off.

“Think they're giving up.” She finished.

The Beast Hunter nodded darkly.

“Bloody typical.” Eileen muttered and crossed her arms in front of her as she mulled over this new information over in her mind.

Sending a few hunters in and then closing the front gates and pretending the problem doesn't exist… A shockingly stupid idea. Irritation began to seethe under her skin as images of the past began to resurface in her mind. Central Yharnam itself had come to a dire outbreak of the scourge many years ago. It was sudden and came with almost no warning, the first serious symptom of the town's long lived ailment. The stealthy hunters of the Church, along with a small group of more independent hunters, had managed to contain and control it in the dead of night somehow, but that night the city had taken keen notice of the beasts for the first time. Many blood drunk hunters with a sudden rekindled lust for blood kept her busy for the many tiring months that followed that night. More than she could count. More than she had wanted to count.

Rumors of screams, and the corpses found in the streets the next day was the ultimate outcome of that fateful night but it only really led to the city's current blissful ignorance of the underlying threat. After all, why worry about things such as death and beasts when one could drown their sorrows in blood? And now it seemed as if the same thing was happening again, albeit on a much larger scale this time.

_‘What’s the point of the Church and their Hunters if they can't control the damn beasts?’_

“...Well, it's a good thing we’re going then.” She mutters thoughtfully.

“Eileen, you know because I serve the Church that I can't just-"

“No, I didn't mean you of course.” She waves a hand dismissively as she speaks. “Another Beast Hunter.”

“I see... Do I know of them?” He asks curiously and arches a brow. To his knowledge, Eileen typically wasn't the sort to partner up with other hunters. Hell, it was hard enough knowing where she was at any given time due to her insistence on solitude.

“I doubt so. She's more the reclusive type.”

“Not much unlike yourself then.” He mused and leaned against the doorway and the Crow sensed a joke coming on. “You should get out more, Eileen. You're looking a might pale. And I think your feathers are losing some of their shine.”

“Ha, ha.” She spoke flatly and turned to leave with a small wave. “Say hello to Viola for me, will ya?”

“Of course.” He replied and bowed his head. “I wish I could accompany you… But, well -” He spoke remorsefully, but Eileen held up a hand before he could continue.

“I know, Gascoigne. I don’t blame ya.”

She feels sorry for the poor man, being torn between the hunt, his family, and his oath to the Church. It's every will was his command, and if they ordered him to stay put, there was no choice but for him to do so. Eileen was about to leave when she stopped hesitantly and turned back to him, glancing down in an unimpressed manner at his absurdly large black boots and then back up to the scarf he wore over his white shirt.

“Ya look absolutely ridiculous by the way.”

“ _Oh_ , apologies your majesty.” He spoke sarcastically, bowing at the hip now and even waving a hand out as he did for dramatic effect, the bottom of his scarf brushing against the concrete step as he did. “I should have known better than to be dressed in this manner at five in the morning.”

Eileen chuckles through her nose, and Gascoigne grinned that large toothy smile he always wore whenever something was even slightly amusing.

“My, my…” She mused thoughtfully as she eyed him and considered their comradeship over the many hunts and trials in Yharnam. It hadn't escaped her notice that he had certainly changed much since he’d met Viola. “I never thought I’d see the day when Father Gascoigne would settle down. It's hard to believe it's been over a year now… Domestic life suits you.” She spoke more kindly now.

“You’re being oddly sentimental. Should I be worried?” He quips, the grin never quite leaving his face.

“Don’t be daft. Just worry about that little one of yours. I'm sure she's keeping ya busy. And give Henryk my regards.”

She nods a brief farewell as she turned again, and he wished her luck before walking back into the warm house and shutting the heavy door behind him.

He hung the scarf over a hook and looked about the still room warmly lit by a fading candlelight. A few years ago he would've been more than happy to run off and kill a few beasts despite any bothersome restrictions. It was moments like these that he found himself missing the freedom the hunt had used to posses.


	18. Crude Methods

Eileen didn't bother trying to rest. There was no point in lying in bed for hours waiting for sleep that wouldn't come. She spent most of the day preparing for the coming night, setting out earlier and arriving much earlier than she had intended. She waited for nearly over an hour for Amélie to show up, not that it bothered her much having time to think. She used most of this time to watch the small shop for any signs of suspicious activity, coming to the conclusion that they probably hadn't been sold out to anyone. When Amélie finally did appear the old man quickly ushered the two in, no happier than he was the previous day.

He led them to a larger work area on the side of the building where the shipments were collected and moved by a horse drawn carriage. Another man was waiting to greet them there as well, but this one appeared much younger and wore a plain outfit, a white shirt with black suspenders and a dusty pair of grey pants. He greets them quietly and offered a meek hand as the older one introduced them.

“This heres Will. The lad does all the heavy liftin’ for me, and he’ll be putting the coffins into the carriage, so you don’t hafta worry bout them feelin’ a weight difference. At least until you get to the other side, that is.” He grunts and sets his cane against one of the dust covered work tables. “And don’t bother trying to say anythin’ to him, the imbecile can’t utter a word. Born dumb I’m afraid.”

Eileen was in the process of shaking his hand when the man said this and noticed the way he averted his eyes almost shamefully, and she found it to be a very rude thing to say on his part.

“Thank you for helping us, Will.” She spoke with an intended degree of softness.

The boy nodded shyly in response and he retreated from them and returned to his work.

Amélie walked over to a large worktable as they carried out the greeting and she ran a hand over one of the finely crafted coffins, not failing to notice the high quality wood and latches that made up the build of the grim box.

The shop owner impatiently motioned the boy over to one of the tables and he obediently rushed to it, listening intently as he gave him some sort of order in a hushed tone. Eileen approached one of the boxes as well and inspected it with an uneasy feeling. Despite her discomfort with tight spaces, she doesn't doubt her ability to keep her fears under control. Mental strength was certainly something she considered to be one of her stronger suits, usually being just a matter of breathing and keeping one's imagination in check.

Most of the coffins appear simple and seem to be meant for more lower class citizens, but there were a few present that possessed more dignified designs with black elegantly polished wood. Subtle thin lines of gold paint lined the soft sanded edges, showing a fine attention to detail. 

“And when do you say the next shipment is?” Amélie questioned as she lifted the top of one of the more regal caskets.

“Shouldn’t be long now. They usually pick’em up after nightfall. Just make sure neither of you move too much or make any noise. Last thing I want is gettin caught for this nonsense.” He lectured. “And don’t touch anything.”

Both of the Hunters simultaneously closed the lids of the separate coffins they were peering into and stepped away from them discreetly.

“And is there a reason you tie a rope around these?” Eileen warily questioned as to the completed set of three coffins stacked and bound atop of each other against a wall.

"We tie all of em up. Keeps the lids from flying open in case they fall in transit. Someone's bound to cut the ropes loose though when you get there… Eventually.” He answers in a disinterested manner before grunting to the worker to move one of the finished boxes. He looked oddly at Eileen for a moment, taking keen notice suddenly of her agitation. “The two on the tables are the last ones. Feel free to decide who goes where. Don't make a difference to me.”

“Wonderful.” Eileen muttered bitterly.

He continues to stare, much to the Crows annoyance. She assumes perhaps he just doesn't find her accent to his liking, as was usually the case with those who didn't appear too friendly at first.

“...You wouldn't happen -”

The shrill static ring of a bell cut through the air and the four looked over to the source of the sound, a long brass tube that ran along the brick wall and traveled to the entrance of the shop. The older man abandoned his accusation and retrieves a key from his coat with a curse.

“Damn bastards always showing up early.” He grumbles as he ambled towards the door. “Stay put for now. I expect you’ll be leavin’ soon.”

When he left Amélie strolled over to the coffin near the Crow and gazed inside it curiously. For someone who wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of being shut into a casket, Eileen appeared surprisingly calm.

“This one certainly looks comfortable.” She remarks with an approving hum. “Wouldn’t mind being buried in this.”

“Of course you wouldn’t mind.” Eileen replies sharply. “You’d be dead.”

“Ouch...” Perhaps the mask had thrown her off considering she certainly sounded anxious. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the casket today.” She adds with uncharacteristic sarcasm, and Eileen gave her a lame look and could tell the Hunter was grinning beneath her mask.

“I get the feeling you’re enjoying this a little too much.” She states, rolling her eyes at the joke and leaning against the box she would eventually have to climb into. “Don’t tell me ya can still stand the sight of these things after all your time as a Hunter.”

“What can I say?” Amélie mused and tapped a knuckle against the dark wood. “I can appreciate fine craftsmanship.”

The silent man across the room smiled when he heard this, though the reaction went unseen by the two Hunters since his back was turned to them. Most of the finer details was something he was tasked with doing time to time, and he’d spent many hours perfecting them whenever he was given the chance.

Eileen grimaced, thinking there were far better ways to put fine craftsmanship to use. Instead of saying this she glanced over to the mute worker who looked to be drawing clean lines on a freshly cut piece of wood. A sudden shout from afar prompted the boy to abandon the project though and quickly rush out the door to respond to the abrasive call of his master.

Amélie mumbled. “Poor soul.” 

Eileen hummed a quiet agreement with the observation and studied the white fabric inside of the casket absentmindedly. One of the many things any stranger to Yharnam could immediately come to notice was the city’s disturbing obsession with the dead. Cemeteries and elegant crypts littered many parts of the town, and typically serve as popular places for gatherings and picnics where people stroll merrily above the deceased inhabitants. The townsfolk themselves had a habit of spending an obscenely large amount of wealth to preserve and embalm their corpses only to bury them in cold concrete plots, subjecting the bodies to an eternity of rotting beneath the ground in a small confining box.

The practice hardly fazes her like it once used to, but it took awhile at first for her to grow accustomed to the town's practice of worshiping the decay of life.

“I take it once we arrive we’ll be going separate ways?” Amélie ventures as she followed the intricate design of a symbol on the side of the casket with a finger.

“I wouldn't mind helping you find your beast once my job is done.” Eileen admits. She imagines it shouldn't be too hard to find Viola's sister given she already has the address. The woman probably knew better than to wander far from home when a hunt was on. “If that's what ya prefer, that is.”

“I’m surprised.” The Hunter declared honestly. She mimicked the Crows stance as she stood up and leaned against the table as well. The two stood side by side, waiting patiently for the time when they would finally leave.

“How so?”

“I haven't exactly been the most… accommodating, of partners.” Amélie confesses.

“Really now? I hadn't noticed.”

Her tone was much too coy to be taken seriously, and Amélie scoffed and found herself fighting the urge to push an elbow against her arm.

It was true though that Eileen had been essential in getting this far. And she'd proved to be very resourceful in her ways. It was her after all that had provided her with the location of the warehouse easily. And she had been the one to take down the white robed Hunter, and get the information which had set them on their path to Lower Yharnam. Something Amélie herself knows she never would have been able to accomplish without multiple deaths. And no doubt by the first death it would have been far too late to hold any hope of finding what she needed.

The Beast Hunter was beginning to grow more and more reluctant to see an end to their jolly cooperation. No doubt though a few good minutes of thought would prove why it was a dreadful idea. For one, Amélie wasn't fond of hunting with others, much less those who could die. She had learned by now though that this was something to avoid mentioning aloud.

“Why help? At first, I mean.” She asks in light of the sudden lack of conversation. There was no suspicion or accusation in her voice, like when she had asked her the very same question that night on the dock. Just honest curiosity. There were few people of Yharnam who thought far beyond their own needs.

“The timing was right.” Eileen answered indifferently. “And, I’ve a soft spot for pretty blue eyes I suppose.”

Amélie felt a heat in her cheeks from the unexpectedly nonchalant statement, and she was suddenly grateful for the mask concealing half of her face. It was a little embarrassing to find herself so easily caught off guard by such a trivial comment and she wonders if perhaps it was a side effect from being so withdrawn over the past years.

"Was that an odd thing to say?" Eileen pondered with a smile all too evident in her voice, enjoying the sudden flustered silence.

"I'll uh, get back to you on that..." She faltered, unsure really of how to answer this.

"I can wait."

Before Amélie could ask just what it was she would be waiting on, a horse's whinny pulled their attention to the sound of a carriage drawing close, and the old man suddenly returned from the storefront, moving more urgently now.

“The times come.” He announces gruffly. “I’ll admit, I can't for the life of me figure why you two would want to do this, but it's your funeral, not mine... Heh.”

He limped over to the coffin beside them and Eileen moved aside when he knelt down to twist a knob under the table, loosening a clamp that held the coffin in place. Amélie watched leisurely as the mute boy approached Eileen and tapped her shoulder, and she notices the strangely reluctant expression on his face as he handed her a piece of paper. The Crow took it and glanced down at it curiously, seeing oddly enough that the only words on it were “ _read this_.”

“But first things first.” The shop owner stated with a sense of conviction and stood back up the moment Eileen turned away from him. Without an ounce of hesitation he pulled a small syringe gun from his pocket and Eileen gasped when he quickly pressed the barrel against her back and pulled the trigger.

“ _Stop_!” Amélie immediately grabbed the man's arm and yanked him away, knowing fully well that she hadn’t been fast enough to prevent him from doing the damage.

Before she could even begin to question his actions though Eileen was already upon him, and Amélie thought for a moment she just might break the man's neck. Instead she grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the gun and shoved him against the table's edge, taking no care for his frail state. Amélie let his arm go and instead held her pistol up towards the silent boy who suddenly seemed very determined to defend his overseer. He quickly came to a halt though when she clicked her tongue disapprovingly and motioned for him to take a step back with a wave of the gun.

“What the _hell_ did you just inject me with…?” The Crow growled, gritting her teeth as her mind became increasingly aware of the burning sensation in her lower back. 

“It was only a sedative, no need for the hostility.” He assures her and threw his other hand up in the air as a gesture of surrender. Eileen shifts her focus to the small device in his hand, finding it noticeably difficult to focus on the words over the small glass bottle secured to it.

“Why?” Amélie demands, having half a mind to turn the gun on him instead.

“I told you before, you bootless harpy, I ain't about to get caught smugglin’ people through the gates, and this one's two damn jumpy for my liking.” He spat back and dropped the gun onto the table.

"Harpy -?"

“-A _drug_ was hardly necessary.” Eileen reprimanded, interrupting the Hunter's confusion. “Do you have any idea how easy it is to kill someone with a sedative?”

“Calm yourself woman, you’ll only be out for a few hours at the most... And besides, you hunters are pretty durable when it comes to this stuff.”

“Implying you've done this before!?” Amélie remarks unbelievably. As if the man couldn't be any less questionable.

“Well, I would've stuck you too, if you hadn't been so damn ornery.” He muttered, and the Beast Hunter glanced nervously between the two men as she began to realize that she was about to lose her only backup. Shooting them certainly was not the preferable route, but it looked the only option if they suddenly decided they liked their odds.

“That's not happening. The deal was you get us to Lower Yharnam. Not knock us out and ship us off to god knows where.” She informed him more confidently.

Eileen’s grip on the man began to weaken and she felt her head starting to grow lighter with every second. The arguing around her was beginning to become less discernible but the trepidation rising in her chest was certainly crystal clear.

“Wouldn't that be a little hard to pull off discreetly when that snobby gunsmith already knows where you two are _supposed_ to be headed?” He proposed as a counter argument. "I already told you, the last thing I want is trouble. And the last thing I want is that errant buffoon shooting up the place looking for his adopted, charity case,  _foreigner_." He finished, spitting the last word rudely.

A scowl formed on the Beast Hunters lips when he made this clear. So maybe he wasn't planning to do anything more nefarious than drug someone. Still, it was a less than eloquent way to go about it.

“Alright... What do we do Eileen.” Amélie offered finally, leaving the decision up to her choosing.

“I’m not going anywhere like this...” She replied and shook her head as her focus grew more distant, and the elderly man snorted with a vulgar laugh when she released him.

“Either way, they're expecting a shipment to start going out those doors in about ten minutes. You can either be on it or off it, it's no matter to me when it happens. If this is a matter of urgency though, that’d be pretty damn stupid of you.”

Despite Eileen's understandable unwillingness, Amélie bit her lip indecisively after he said this. In her mind, the situation was certainly urgent.

He watched the Crow with a sudden nervous expression when it looked like she might respond aggressively, but instead she stepped to the side and gripped onto the edge of the table to steady herself. She bowed her head low and took a few moments to breathe with the hope that it would keep her grounded as the fuzzy sensation of sleep in her chest began threatening to pull her under. He took the opportunity to move away from her, a relieved grin on his face as he did.

  
“Bout time. I was startin’ to worry there.” He states in relief, and his wheezing laugh was the last thing she was able to properly hear before the voices and images around her became too faded to properly grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eileen just can't catch a break.  
> Lower Yharnam, here we come!


	19. Lower Yharnam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hell of a month ~_~

Eileen first became aware of the dead silence when she came to. That, and the unpleasant pounding in her head.

The darkness she was met with when she finally forced her eyes open left her in a lethargic state of confusion, and she thought at first that perhaps the front of her hat had fallen over her mask. Without much concern yet, she sluggishly lifted an arm to move it. Her hand had barely even rose to her face before it smacked into the top of the coffin with a dull thump. Another three seconds of blissful unawareness passed before her mind began to suspect something wasn't quite right. The first tell was she was on her back, which must of meant that at some point she had fallen asleep, something she typically remembered dong. That, and the fact that the air felt awfully cramped. She moved her other arm to the side only to be met by a second wall on her left. Panic began to set in like slow pouring cement when she realized that it's only dark because of the solid walls closed around her in every direction. The pounding in her head was soon accompanied with a pounding in her chest as confusion quickly became acquainted with fear.

She immediately placed both of her hands on the surface above her and pushed upwards weakly, her breathing growing faster under her mask when it failed to budge. A brief attempt to test her speech only resulted in a barely audible squeak as her voice failed to leave her throat, so screaming to any potential passerby was quickly crossed off of her narrowing list of what to do. There was surely plenty of air around her to breath but at the moment her mind told her opposite, and her lungs began to respond in kind with panicked gasps.

She pulled a hand back and banged on the top with more aggression this time and to her immense relief the clanking of a chain suddenly being undone was heard above her. A bright explosion of light assaulted her senses soon after and she squeezed her eyes shut, blindly grasping for the side of the coffin while she tried to sit up.

“No- no, this isn't right. This isn't right at all. Not at all...” A soft voice mumbled next to her as she tried to catch her breath in the open air. She turned to the person in question with the intention of eventually responding, but it was hard to make out his figure when everything was a muddled blend of blazing light and fuzzy shadows.

“No, you're supposed to sleep see.” He spoke again and a shout caught in her throat when he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down with more strength than she had the ability to fight at the moment. Her hands flew to grasp his arm as he pinned her down and suddenly held what she registered as a butcher's knife over her neck.

“I can fix this, don't you worry now…” He murmured and the Crow had the good sense to release one of her hands and grab his wrist before the cleaver drew any closer.

“What the hell are ya doing!?” Her words finally broke through with a rasp and the man growled and applied more strength when she began to fight back.

The struggle didn't last long when quick footsteps approached and the exploding blast of a pistol went off. The man fell off to the side instantly and Amélie walked towards the casket, rubbing at the side of her head gingerly.

“It always escapes my mind how painful it is to discharge a weapon in a confined space.” She growled regretfully over the ringing in her ears and took her arm to help her up. “I’ve been searching every damn coffin for you. For some strange reason this thing dragged yours out here. It's a good thing you yelled out… Uh, can you hear me?”

The gunshot had an even more jarring effect on the her than it had on Amélie, and she quickly used the Beast Hunter’s arm as leverage to escape the confined space.

“Wait a second, slow down-!” She shouted when Eileen quickly moved past her and buckled to the ground before Amélie could even try to support her weight. Her breathing was still panicked as she sat there with her palms flat on the floor and tried to force her mind to calm itself, and Amélie grimaced when she suddenly began to fumble with the buttons securing her mask to her fabric attached to her collar.

“Oh, don't tell me you're going to puke.” She asked sourly and took a cautious step back, realizing afterwards that it was probably an extremely insensitive thing to say considering her current state of being.

As soon as the second button came unclipped Eileen instantly put a thumb under the bottom of her wooden mask and pushed it up, gasping when she was finally able to taste the fresher air. Her breathing slowed now that she was certain that she still could in fact breathe, and it suddenly dawned on her that her weapons were still securely fastened to her belt, right where they always were. Something that would have been very useful for her mind to remind her of _before_ she had almost been butchered. But, apparently her brain had been too concerned with waking up in a coffin with little to no knowledge of how she came to be there. This exact thought though soon made her aware of whose fault that was.

The culprit herself stood silently, waiting for Eileen to speak, and found herself staring longer than she should have at the first reveal of what was beneath her mask. It was really only the bottom half that was visible, but it was intriguing nonetheless given the Crows favor of anonymity. The dark skin of her of her face was only broken by two thin scars that traveled up the curve of her jaw disappeared under her mask, and she thinks of how odd it is, to have marks that would never fade. Amélie herself had very few scars, and those she did only remained because they formed before the Dream had come to her.

“Would ya like a picture?” Eileen suddenly snapped, and Amélie quickly noticed the snarl on her lips as well.

“Sorry, I… Are you alright?” She offered and laid a hand onto her shoulder.

Eileen quickly shrugged it off and took another calming intake of air before shaking her head regrettably. Of course she should have known better than to trust her well being to a stranger. Why she had done so was beyond her.

“I would'ave been much better if some _idiot_ hadn't allowed me to be shoved into a coffin after I explicitly said not to.” 

“That's fair.” Amélie muttered and gently took her arm to help her stand. “How do you feel? That stuff didn't seem lethal, but anything that works that fast is bound to bring some aches.”

Eileen put a hand to her head as she rose and considered that question, taking into account the dizziness and the continued shrill hum reverberating in her ears from the blast.

“Besides the pounding in my head…?” She utters. “Alive. As far as I can tell, anyways.”

“So no blood then?”

Eileen shook her head, wincing when it caused a sharp pain in her neck.

“Save it.” She reprimanded as she grabbed the back of her sore neck and rolled her head. “I’ve a feeling we may need it later.”

She suddenly became aware of Amélie's less than subtle staring and cleared her throat, pulling the mask back down. Now that she was able to see properly, she studied the room around them to find they’re in what looks like the front of an embalming shop. Candles melting into almost every flat surface brighten the room and her eyes eventually fell on the dead figure of what must have been the shop's previous owner. A pool of blood had formed under his head and soaked into the floorboards, and his eyes were wide and staring ahead with an empty gaze, the pupils hazy and collapsed. A clear tell of an early onset of beasthood. But if that wasn't obvious, the damp fur that covered his face and arms in motley rank clumps certainly was. Lower Yharnam must be in quite a shape if a beast could get away with running a shop for this long.

“Well, full disclosure, I used a vial on you right before we left. Just in case.” Amélie admits as she hooks her gun back to her side.

“Forgive me if I don't thank ya.” Eileen muttered scornfully. “...And just how did ya get out?”

Amélie retrieved a slim throwing knife from her coat and held it up for show and Eileen thought she could do without the smug look.

“I took this from that knife holder in your belt before we left and managed to push it through the lid just enough to cut the rope. It's a good thing our friend here didn't drag me off to wrap a chain around mine. Also, is there a reason you have twenty of these?”

“How resourceful of you.” She replied and irritably swiped it from her hand.

Amélie was about to reply with annoyance as well until her eyes suddenly caught a soft glow hidden behind a counter cluttered with bottles.

“That was fast.”

Eileen's curiosity of the sudden excitement wasn't exactly prompted until the Hunter made beeline for whatever she was referring to and kneeled behind the shops front counter.

She sighed finally and approached as well. “ _What_ are you doing.” She stopped behind Amélie and gazed past her, seeing nothing on the ground but a clutter of crumpled newspaper and empty bottles. Certainly nothing worthy of taking.

“What does it look like?” She countered as she turned back to her with a skeptical look.

“It looks like ya’ve lost your mind.”

“It's a lamp.” Amélie clarified as she adjusted the short red scarf around her neck with a dubious expression, thinking it should have been pretty obvious to begin with.

Eileen looked past her again to see that there was in fact a lamp after all. The lamp itself wasn't surprising given it wasn't odd for hunters to discover new ones when wandering into beast ridden territory. It had been a long time though since she had seen one with her own eyes.

“You couldn't see that?”

Eileen simply shook her head as she studied the gentle glow and the swaying white messengers that surrounded it. “Once you stop anticipating them, your eyes just fail to notice them I suppose.” She acknowledged almost distantly.

Many aspects of the dream had escaped her memory over the years. Like most dreams, once you awoke, all it took was the passing of time for one to forget the memories they held. She wouldn't be surprised if there came a day, when the hunt finally ends for good, that she might forget it all together. It was a day she hopes she could to live to see.

“Oh. Well… I’ll be right back.” Amélie mumbled, finding the thought troubling. She treasured each lamp that lit the way in the dark. She could hardly imagine _not_ searching every corner for one.

“If you insist… Tell the little doll I said hello.”

The Hunter faded from view until Eileen was left with only the relaxing hum of the light. She stares at it for a few moments and kneels down before it as she had done countless times in the past. This time though her soul felt no connection to the object, nothing of the bind that allowed one access to the dream. It may as well have been any old lamp.

One of the small creatures worshiping it acknowledged her presence as she kneeled though, not entirely to her surprise. It turned slowly and gazed up at her in an oddly innocent way, it's deformed mouth opening and closing in a manner that the average person would probably turn away from in disgust. She found it to be a warm sight though and reached a hand loosely towards the being. It responded by slowly wrapping its slender hand around her index finger and clinging to her, similar in a way that a newborn child might grasp tightly onto a person's hand, for no other reason than because it could. The gesture calmed her previously anxious mind, and she found herself painfully missing the retreat that the Dream had once provided. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking that she would come to forget it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rofl Amelie is kind of a bitch. sorry.  
> She'll try harder.


	20. Familiar Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are all having a warm and happy holiday! Stay safe! :)

Amélie opened one of the many cabinets situated near the crackling fireplace and retrieved something from the middle shelf before rushing back to the stone tablet that listed the lamps of Yharnam. The Doll silently bowed to her as she passed and Amélie offered a small distracted greeting before she knelt in front of it. The newest location at the bottom simply read “Funeral Home.” She raised a hand out to the messengers waiting for her before hesitating and looking back over at the porcelain faced being.

“A Hunter by the name of Eileen asked me to say hello.” She mentions and the Doll tilts her head in an odd manner.

“Do I know her?” She asks thoughtfully.

“She tells me she used to Dream. Not anymore though.”

“How strange…” The Doll pondered, and Amélie always found it strange how her voice never quiet matched the somber apathetic expression on her face. “I do not recall the name… But it seems familiar. If it would not trouble you, could you tell her that I hope she is well?”

“Of course.” Amélie assures her, thinking there was no need for her to shape the request as a plea.

“Thank you, good Hunter.”

The quiet moment that Eileen and the small messenger shared ended when the lamp’s glow brightened and the messenger sensed the return of its Hunter. It turned away and joined its kind again and quickly Eileen stood back up, eager to get going. A few moments later Amélie materialized, bring the serene scent of Dream into the room with her.

“Find what you need?” Eileen asked as she stood.

“Yep.” She replies and holds up a single glass vial.

A few seconds of unimpressed silence passed before the Crow realized she had no intention of elaborating.

“Is this a joke.” Eileen chided flatly.

“What? No.” She falters with a frown and the small yellow glass sedative in her hand lowered for a second. “It puts the mind at ease. And, I’ve noticed that these things work wonders at getting rid of headaches, so... Here.”

She held it out farther with an almost awkward side glance, and Eileen took it reluctantly, not overly fond of any drug that altered the mental state. She supposes that it was a bit late for that kind of attitude though. Amélie strolled past her, putting a hand over the doorknob of the front entrance as she looked back over to Eileen who was already pulling her mask back down and tossing the empty glass aside.

“Ready?” Amélie asked. The musky cramped shop was beginning to make her restless, and she was eager as well to see the forbidden part of the city. Eileen joined her with a brief nod.

Not even the incense in her mask could overcome the stench of beast that flowed in as she opened the door and Eileen grimaced when the strangely warm air met her senses.

“Ugh.” The Crow made a disgusted noise and sharply exhaled through her nose as she tried to grow accustomed to the odor. “It’s-...”

“Heavenly.” Amélie took a deep breath as she tasted the air on her tongue and breathed contently. The smell invigorated her senses and it was immediately clear to her that coming here was the best course of action she could have possibly taken. 

“You and I have very different ideas of what heaven smells like.” Eileen reprimanded with revulsion.

The crackling of fire met their ears as they stepped out into the night and Amélie’s eyes fell onto the sight of a dead beast being burned on a wood post in the dead of night not too far from the shop. The stake was visibly out in the open, placed directly in the middle of the street, presumably for passerbys to see no less.

“They’re burning the beasts? In public?” Amélie spoke unbelievably.

“Seems the illness here isn't very secret.” Eileen mused as Amélie approached the foul smelling corpse and inspected the empty street and the buildings surrounding them with a tense feeling. It was eerie, standing alone with only the crackling sound of flesh burning. It was the kind of quiet that made one feel like the world had stopped turning for a day.

"This way."

"Where are we going?" The Beast Hunter questioned as she quickly caught up with Eileen who had already begun to walk down the street.

"Unless ya have an idea of where your beast is, we might as well head towards the only address we actually have." She clarified and held up the strip of paper with the information Viola had scrawled onto it. "Its only a few blocks from here, if I'm correct that is. Its been a long time since I've roamed these streets."

"How convenient." She mutters a reply. She doesn't argue though, figuring that they had to start somewhere.

The Hunters walked for what seemed an eternity and as they did Amélie took notice of the beasts strung up on the streets, and oddly enough, the Church statues. Most were untouched, but some were broken and obviously dragged from their places, as if they were being rounded up. They passed many more buildings that seemed empty, and not one of them shone any light, besides the lighted and incense hanging near the windows and doors. If that wasn't eerie, then the sudden faint clicking of claws emerging from a dark alley certainly was. The blonde came to an abrupt stop and waited for the creature to show itself. With all the rumors she had expected beasts to be pouring from the windows, but the part of town they were in seemed awfully dull.

"Never seen one like that before." Amélie comments when the beast revealed itself and stared at the two for a few brief seconds. A white sheet was draped over its head, and for a moment there it almost fooled her into thinking it was human. A guttural growl rose from its throat and it began to amble slowly towards her and she threw a questioning look to Eileen, its slow pace leaving plenty of room for comfort. Surely there was time enough to slay one beast.

"Don't let me stop ya." Eileen remarked and folded her arms, knowing well there was probably little she could do to keep her from personally taking on every beast they happened upon. This one seemed harmless enough anyways, so she hoped it wouldn't take long.

Before she could even draw her weapon the beast had lunged, and Amélie seriously underestimated its speed when it covered fast ground. The beast succeeded in knocking her down when it barreled into her, and Amélie could hear the sound of Eileen snickering when she tumbled backwards and it fell over her. She quickly avoided a snap from its jaws by pushing her weapon up into its ribs and the Hunter threw Eileen an agitated look when she came to stand over her.

"You're doing well." She surmised satirically and tilted her head with an unseen smirk. "But you might want to try actually killing the beast."

"Cut me some slack, I've yet to memorize its moves." She grunted and placed a boot on its stomach in an attempt to keep it distanced. "A _little_ help would be nice though."

"I think you've got it under control."

"If you’re mad you could just say so- " Amélie pointed out with a huff and toppled the beast before pinning it to the ground with her cleaver. She hesitated on delivering the final blow to finish her sentence and it swiped its claws into the air in agitation as she held it down. "You know, like a normal person?"

Eileen scoffed as she raised her saw and sliced it down in one swift motion, very nearly decapitating the creature. "Are you suggesting that I'm holding a grudge?"

"Oh, not at all." She declared with a sense of feigned patronage and wiped her gloves on the sides of her coat. "I'm sure you're above that sort of thing."

"Hardly." Eileen replied and Amélie smirked and shook her head with a faint laugh on her breath.

She rose to her feet a little more content than she had been before. A beast was dead, and so far forgiveness seemed very possible. Which was a relief since the Crow Hunter seemed like the kind of person one would want on their side. Especially in a beast plagued city.

With the creature dead, Eileen turned to continue on their merry way until Amélie of course finally noticed the beast that had been slowly following them from a distance, something the Crow had intentionally neglected to mention for some time. She sighed when the Hunter immediately made towards it.

"Do we have to slay _every_ beast we come across?" She called after her, sharing little of the enthusiasm Amélie did for the hunt. So far it seemed people were staying indoors, so the beasts were little threat for the moment. She was also worried the blood could draw more. That was time she didn't want to waste.

Amélie threw her a look of feigned confusion and shrugged as she walked backwards for a few seconds.

"Yes...?"

Eileen rolled her eyes and waited as the Hunter made her way towards the beast, this time finishing it off with a bit more grace than the last. She took her time with the fight, testing its range of close and far attacks by dodging and positioning herself at certain distances. The Crow noticed the odd way she used her weapon as she did. It wasn't so much the way she held it, but the way she carried its weight and swung it, and it made her wonder if perhaps Amélie wasn't as familiar with the saw cleaver as she had assumed. But regardless of the way she used it, it got the job done and the beast soon fell dead. She rejoined her and they made their way through the barren city once more.

There was yet a soul to be seen, but plenty of beasts. Some were alone and some traveled in groups of two or three at the most. Amélie seemed intent on killing every last one, much to Eileen's faint annoyance. She couldn't help but think though that at least one of them seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The two eventually found themselves roaming down a street surrounded on both sides by tightly packed homes. When they finally did come across the home of Viola's sister they discovered that it as well was dark like the rest. Eileen approached the door and knocked on it loudly as Amélie kept watch for any more beasts. The lighted incense lamp hanging from the wall gave her hope, but that soon faded when she was only met with more silence.

The blonde Hunter noticed from the corner of her eye that one of the curtains from a window across the street suddenly fell into place, and the unsettling feeling of being watched came over her. She turned back to the other Hunter to mention this and saw she was fiddling with the lock and twisting two long pieces of metal tools into the key opening.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" She spoke harshly and the knob made a sudden clacking sound as it unlocked.

"It looks like you're breaking and entering." Amélie started and paused when Eileen stared at her silently instead of walking through the now open door. "...Right, that was stupid, let’s go." She mumbled.

As if either of them had held any regard for the law over the course of the last week.

They entered the eerily silent living room and Eileen briefly hooked a small dimly lit lantern onto her belt before walking into the middle and examining the place.

"Olivia?" She called out and Amélie flinched when she loudly broke the silence and her voice carried up the stairs and echoed into the rooms above.

Many more seconds of silence passed until she finally said what they were both thinking.

"Well, no one’s home. And if there were any beasts I assume they would have come running by now." Amélie spoke boredly and picked up a gold bracelet with encrusted jewels off of a stand next to the stairs. She turned it over in her hands curiously with a hum as she took notice of its elegance while Eileen walked across the room and inspected the fireplace. "I guess no one would mind if I took this?"

"I would." Eileen sharply muttered with annoyance and abandoned the brick fireplace. She took it from her hands and set it back down on the table before suddenly making her way up the stairs.

Amélie followed her up the dark steps, watching peculiarly as she opened one of the upstairs doors and began to open the dresser drawers in one of the rooms.

"What is it now..." She sighed and leaned against the doorway without a clue as to what she was doing.

"There's still food on the table downstairs, and there are clothes missing from the dresser, and piled onto the bed. Meaning she was deciding what to take with her." She explained quickly and closed the drawers. "And the embers from the fireplace are still glowing."

"Alright, well that just confirms what we already know. She isn't here." Amélie pointed out, noticing that Eileen’s demeanor was growing more urgent.

"True, but it also proves that she left in a hurry, with just enough time to pack a bag. So she had a place in mind." Her voice grew almost inaudible as she walked in and out of the other rooms of the second floor and the Beast Hunter waited idly by the stairs for her to cease her efforts.

"We can't exactly search the entirety of Yharnam for one woman. For all we know I could have killed her on the way here."

Eileen ignored this comment and walked past her, and Amélie followed her down the stairs with another sigh. She hopes that she doesn't plan to let this search consume the entire night, since that would take longer than she could tolerate. Patience was never something she had mastered.

She walked out the front door of the house as well and came to a standstill. Eileen gazed down the street, her mind deep in thought as she considered what most citizens would consider a safe place. Amélie also glanced down the street, seeing it was just as quiet as the others.

“Where… is everyone?”

“Indoors if they're smart." Eileen muttered distractedly. "I can't imagine any informed citizen would be roaming the streets in this part of the city.”

“I figured that, but it's so… quiet.”

Quiet was definitely an understatement. The air was dead silent. Which made the following gunshot as clear as day.

The two Hunters stared in the direction that it had come for a few moments before silently agreeing to investigate with a shared nod. As they drew nearer to end of the street a faint orange glow of fire became apparent. Their brisk walk quickly turned to running when they heard the snarls of beasts and sounds of shouting.

They skidded to a stop when they turned to see the next street swarming with beasts and a small band of Hunters fending them off in front of the a burning building on the streetside. The creature’s eyes gleamed red in the night as they attacked mercilessly and the Hunters already looked to be struggling to keep the beasts off their backs. There also seemed to be a fight happening amongst a few of them further back.

Amélie instantly drew weapon with a grin on her face, and it was surprising to Eileen how fast she took to the fight, as if she were a starving man suddenly met with a feast. She quickly killed three of the two-legged wolf like beasts in seconds, an easy feat given they had yet to notice the two new arrivals. It was when the fourth fell that the surrounding beasts finally took notice of her and the fight became more challenging and she quickly learned how to avoid the flurry of claws as they rushed to attack.

Eileen engaged as well, hacking her way past a group of them with ease. It had been awhile since she had participated in a beast hunt, but she was no stranger to the feral moves of animals.

There was an almost visible shift in the odds now, and it certainly seemed like a fight most would survive at this point. The Crow's attention was pulled from the fight when she heard the snarl of a man nearby and she quickly stabbed a blade into the eye socket of the beast focused on her, hoping to put a swift end to it. She grimaced when continued to lurch forward despite the injury to its brain, something she didn't think it capable of. It sliced open the skin of her forearm when she threw her arm out to protect her middle and she twisted the weapon inside of it with a grunt. The beast finally ceased its efforts and Eileen pushed the putrid smelling creature aside and scanned the area for the source of the shouting. She was only further distracted with another beast who was mauling an already dead hunter, and it would be a lie if she said there wasn't a certain degree of anger in her actions when she furiously kicked it off and delivered a few bullets into its head.

The fighting was certainly beginning the wind down by this time, and only a few of the beasts remained who were quickly swarmed in all directions by different Hunters. Her eyes finally fell on a group of three men yelling and trying to hold a thrashing Hunter back.

“Damn it Pete, Grab his arm!” One of them growled when their grip faltered and the madman managed to grasp one of the men's throats.

“ _You_ grab his fucking arm, you're not the one with a broken hand!” The man shouted back at him, clearly reluctant to do anything more than wrap an arm around his neck as he held him in place. The corrupted Hunter immediately released his hold on the man to claw at arm under his chin and the man stumbled backwards gasping.

“Whoah- what the hell do you think you're doing?” The Hunter spitting orders suddenly accused when Eileen began to approach with her blades drawn.

She hesitates when he moves between her and the other three and recognized his defensive stance. No doubt he was probably close to the Hunter in some way. It had been awhile since she played this game, and she certainly had less patience for it than she had in the past.

“He’s gone mad.” She replied sternly.

“He’s _sick.”_

Now that the beasts all lay dead, more Hunters were quickly becoming interested in the scene unfolding while they stood at a distance. Most of them had spent the last two weeks fighting the beasts together in a close knit group, and it was immediately obvious that the Crow Hunter was a stranger. Amélie herself watched keenly from the sidelines, happily drenched in the blood of beasts and wondering at what point it would be courteous of her to become involved. Knowing Eileen, that was probably never.

 _“Hey_ , we're losing him over here-...!” The man named Pete suddenly warned as their control over him faltered and the man snarled in another attempt wretch his body free from their hold.

“Move aside.” Eileen declared gravely.

“Or what?”

She kindly answered his question by punching the blunt end of her weapon into his face and he staggered back in shock when she delivered the swift response. The two men behind him shouted out when the beast finally broke free and lunged for the shocked man between them. Eileen quickly grabbed his shoulder and shoved him aside, thrusting a blade into the attacker's chest as he stumbled forward. She examined his features for a split moment before he fell, her mind ever anticipating the moment it was someone she recognized. There was a brief outcry from the surrounding Hunters and then dead silence when he crumpled to the ground. 

As interesting as the entire exchange had been, Amélie quickly realized it had just ended on a very serious note. Clearly this man was one of them, and by the looks of it, they had no intention of handling this the way Eileen just had.

“... Oh, _fuck_ …” Pete muttered and he slowly sank to the ground and sat there, putting his head in his hands.

“ _Murderer!”_ The Hunter screamed and quickly recovered from the punch, and the shock of watching his fellow Hunter die a little too quickly. He apparently thought charging at her blindly would be a smart approach and she fiercely grabbed his arm when he threw a fist out and kicked the back of his leg in, twisting the arm behind his back and forcing him to his knees. She took care not to cut him, not wanting to sully her blade with the blood of a sane Hunter, even if he was an idiot.

“I am terribly sorry for your loss.” She hissed with hardly a degree of kindness and shoved him forward as she released his arm. He stayed on his knees this time and spit blood from his mouth with a curse before wiping a sleeve over his bloodied nose.

“Who's the one in charge here?” The Hunter of Hunters announced more loudly as she shifted her eyes around the ragged group surrounding her. She assumes they are Powder Keg Hunters, going by the fact that most of them seemed to be holding Stake drivers, a common piece of issued equipment among their group. Whoever the commander was, they were certainly doing a shabby job at keeping their Hunters safe.

No one answered her at first and she was growing increasingly impatient with their prolonged shock. The Crow Hunters before her certainly had an easier time with this sort of thing. Back when Hunters were only a small exclusive group, it was easier to come across more informed individuals who were aware of the risks and methods for handling such things. Now that more joined the hunt every year, with the masses came ignorance.

"Well?"

“...You just killed him.” Pete finally responded solemnly.

Amélie felt an oddly heavy feeling in her chest when he said this.

"What was his name?" The Beast Hunter spoke up without much thought, tensing when twelve heads turned to look at her.

"Edwin... Edwin Harper." He replied lowly.

The heavy feeling grew even more somber. She had heard of the man before. Elizabeth spoke very fondly of him back when they were still writing to each other. The reminder that she was likely close suddenly prompted her to scan the area for her, noticing with relief that she was nowhere to be seen. It was really no surprise. No doubt she would not have stood by silently during the events in the past few minutes anyways. Amélie saw nothing but exhaustion on every one of their faces as she studied them, gone was the bravado and excitement most hunters typically sported. The hunt here truly seemed like a chore, and she wondered if she would perhaps come to see that as well. An odd two or three beasts a week was hardly a challenge, but ten or twenty in the span of a few days? Suddenly she wasn't so sure.

“How unfortunate.” Eileen looked down at the dead man, knowing that these Hunters wouldn't remain organized for very long without some semblance of leadership. “Who is next in line?

“Our second in command is with a survey group. They've been gone for over a day. They should have been back by now...”

"I see. And I imagine you all are posted somewhere?" She suggests as she offers a hand to the man.

"That's none of your business- "

"Shut it Mason, this isn't helping." Pete muttered to the crude man and sighed as he took her hand and stood. "You know there's nothing we could've done for him anyways."

The one named Mason scoffed and shook his head snidely, but didn't give any further response.

"We're stationed at two buildings about thirty minutes from here on Crest street. It's supposed to be a safe haven for the people of Yharnam, until we can get the beasts under control. Our scouts noticed a particularly large herd moving towards there, and we wanted to take care of the problem before it got too close. We thought we had enough numbers to handle it, but, well..."

"Well, ya've done your job well." She remarked as she glanced around at the surrounding corpses. "...I just happen to be looking for someone who might be there. Would ya mind if we accompanied you back to this safe area?"

"You and your partner are more than welcome to join us." He quickly answered before the other Hunter could state his obvious discontent. "The more hunters the better, I say."

There were brief statements such as "you can’t be serious," and "no way in hell," and Amélie found herself growing very aggravated with the group's mentality. Obviously a problem had been taken care of, and they weren't the ones that had to do it. If anything she thought they ought to be thanking Eileen.

"Look we're all sore and tired." Pete stated more loudly to the bystanders. "We've accomplished what we've set out to do and I think it’s about time we _all_ head back."

There were weary murmurs of agreement now and Eileen briefly nodded a thanks, walking back over to Amélie's side as a few Hunters prepared to move the body of their fallen commander while the rest began to depart. She was very aware of the many people staring daggers into her as she did, and Amélie whistled in an impressed manner as she approached.

"You sure know how to make a first impression. I haven't felt this much collective tension since I crippled three drunk men in a dark alley. Guess some people just can't see what’s right in front of them." She directed this last bit crossly towards a man passing by with an obvious sneer on his face, and he seemed more than willing to stand up to the challenged glare.

"Enough Amélie." Eileen uttered. "We don't need another fight."

She abandoned the tense look they shared and turned away from the grim sight of the dead being carried by their colleagues.

The two quickly fell behind the rest of the group and Eileen remained quiet as they walked. At first Amélie didn't pay much mind to her continued silence, but as time went on she wondered if perhaps her most recent kill had more of affect on her than she let on. It wasn’t too troubling at first, but when the twenty minute mark past Amélie could hardly take it anymore.

"Why do you do it?" She blurted out suddenly.

Eileen turned to her blankly. In all honesty she had retreated so far into her own mind that she had forgotten the other existed for a short time.

"Do what?"

"The prey you hunt... Why not just hunt the beasts?"

"Ah." Eileen chuckled quietly. "In case ya haven't noticed, there aren’t many of my kind around. And even less so willing to do the job."

"So I'm assuming you didn't come into this line of work on your own accord then." Amelie ventured.

"What gave that away?"

"Besides the obvious fact that you're a professionally trained assassin?" She laughed at her own amusement before carrying on. "Those who kill men willfully are either trained to do so, or deranged. And you certainly don't seem the latter."

"An interesting observation." Eileen regarded. "Makes me quite curious about how you've come to know such things."

"I pay attention." Amélie answered with a casual shrug and decided to steer the conversation just a bit. "So how old were you when you first started your training?"

"Fourteen." She answered indifferently.

"That’s fairly young."

"I was almost overlooked by my mentor due to my age. Anything older than ten was typically deemed "untrainable." But for some reason he broke custom that day."

The Beast Hunter wasn't surprised that she began at such a young age. Learning to kill and survive was ultimately more effective if the pupil learned before adulthood. It also made it all the harder for said student to abandon such a lifestyle.

"I died during my first encounter with a Hunter in Yharnam at the age of twenty. The Dream found me then, and it spent the next eleven years postponing all manners of untimely demise. And like any new Hunter, I had plenty of those at first." She continued to talk without being prompted to, and Amélie was struck with an odd sense of contentment that the she felt comfortable enough to say such things freely. She noticed her reluctance though to speak of the actual training itself, and of her homeland. She didn't press to know these things of course, given she herself avoided such topics.

It was a subconscious habit by now to evade any questions that brought up the years before she had come to this city. Most Yharnamites didn't care for outsiders, and even though Eileen was an outsider herself, Amélie hardly had enough trust in her heart to speak of it.

"And how long has it been?" She questioned hesitantly. "Since you left the Dream, that is."

Eileen thought about this one for a moment, not knowing off the top of her head.

"Four years I believe...? Perhaps five."

Amélie hummed thoughtfully as she put together the numbers in her mind in an attempt to guess her age. She herself found the dream at nineteen, and it had been many years since then. The Dream had an odd way of slowing the aging process of its inhabitants, keeping them viable for as long as it could for hunting, meaning Amélie herself had hardly aged more than a few years over twenty as well. She wondered if there was a reason that most like Eileen were cut from the dream after almost decade. If there was truly a time limit, she found this very worrisome, since her ten year mark was probably soon approaching. This led her to her next question. 

"Would it be impolite to ask how it happened?"

"Why the sudden curiosity?" Eileen alluded. A conversation was to be expected in light of the sudden lack of entertainment, and she even found it to be calming no less, but she hadn't thought it would consist of her past.

Perhaps witnessing her kill a Hunter similar to herself had rubbed Amélie the wrong way? It would certainly make the most sense. Seeing such things usually made one question their perception of a person.

"I don't want to make the same mistake." Amélie replied bluntly, knowing that it probably wasn't the kindest way to put it. It was the simplest though.

"Well, in that case, it was simple really. I requested it."

Amélie’s eyes widened and she turned to her in surprise, having a very hard time believing her words.

"You left? Willingly? Why would you do that?" The question came out more accusation than intended.

"There is a certain lifestyle that the Dream encourages. I came to tire of it."

She considered her reasoning. It felt pretty weak compared to the perks of freedom from death. 

"Well I suppose that’s the difference between you and I then." Amélie finally answered.

"And that is...?"

"I would never allow anything to take my Dream from me."

Eileen nodded. It seemed a perfectly reasonable response.

"I don't mean to speak ill of it. I find myself even reminiscing from time to time. But I've yet to regret it."

Amélie fell silent again, but decided to ask one last question when she noticed the group was arriving at their destination, the only two lit buildings at the streets end.

"Did it hurt?" She spoke quietly, watching as two Hunters ran out to meet them from the fenced in property.

"No." She replied simply. "It was a painless process."

It was obvious why they had chosen this area as a safe haven. Tall black iron gates sealed in the two properties and provided a convenient first line of defense, making it the perfect place to set up camp. The windows on the first two floors were heavily boarded up, while the rest were left untouched. Many of the windows held a curious face behind them, no doubt people wondering what all the shouting was about. She noticed the one called Pete begin to fall back through the crowd and approach them.

"We've separated the sick from the healthy ones by building, but recently we've started running out of room for the sick." He informed them as they approached the front door to the large residence. "Hopefully that will give you an idea of where to start. And here."

He dug through his pockets for a moment and pulled out a small paper packet and handed it to Eileen.

"I noticed that scratch on your arm there. The beasts here are mostly a result of the sickness that spread, and some of them can still infect you. Us hunters seem to have a higher resistance, but it will still make you feel like shit if it goes untreated."

Before she could even offer her thanks he rushed off, and Amélie was impressed with the man's kindness. Most hunters were snide with a high chance if self obsession. Ego practically came with the job.

"Well that's not someone you come across everyday."

Eileen nodded and turned to her. "I'll try not to take long."

Amélie came to a stop when she announced this and watched her as she left, not minding the coming wait too much. The Crow had barely walked two feet though before she jerked to a sudden stop and Amélie watched keenly, already interested in whatever had startled her so much.

Eileen stared in shock at the Hunter sitting on the front steps who had yet to notice her. His focus was mostly fixated on the furry white cat that sat smugly in his lap as he scratched its chin.

"Henryk?" Eileen finally announced, the surprise in her voice evident.

Amélie leaned against a nearby statue, her curiosity piqued as the man apparently named Henryk suddenly froze and ceased his petting of the creature, looking up with an awkward expression.

"Oh. Eileen..." He spoke with a sudden nervousness. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

" _Henryk..._ " She put forth a sigh and crossed her arms tiredly. " _Please,_ don't tell me Gascoigne is here."

Where one was, the other typically wasn’t far behind.

"Gascoigne? No, of course not. He's at home. With Viola. Why would he be here?” He spoke with a suspiciously fake sounding tone. The cat stood up and brushed the side of his face against his mask, unsatisfied from the sudden lack of attention, and he picked the cat up and gently set it aside with the intention of getting up. "Excuse me for a- "

Before he could even attempt to stand the door suddenly flew open and another Hunter burst out and merrily held up a dusty glass bottle which probably contained some sort of liquor.

" _Henryk_! You’ll never believe what I found in the-....!"

The exclamation soon fell flat when he saw both Hunters eyeing him blankly and he slowly lowered the bottle with a hesitant laugh.

"Look its Gascoigne. How shocking." Henryk muttered crossly and shook his head as he stood. Obviously he was a fool for expecting any kind of discreteness from his partner.

"Eileen." The Minister announced with less enthusiasm this time. "Small world."

"It's an even smaller city." She uttered and Henryk made a small sound of reluctance when she grabbed both men by the arms and led them inside.

The last thing Amélie saw was the door slam shut behind them, which was a shame since she was dreadfully curious about the whole thing. She turned back just in time to see the last of the Hunters enter the grassy area and lock the massive gate shut and considered having a look around before suddenly feeling a sudden yank on the side of her coat.

"Lady."

She turned her attention to her side and gazed down to see a young boy next to her, pulling on her coat side in an attempt to get her attention.

" _Lady."_

Amélie bit her lip and suppressed her sigh, certainly not in the mood to be entertaining some kid. If Eileen didn't hurry it up perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to set out on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, there is bit of mystery as to how Amélie herself first came to be in Yharnam, but for the moment this isn't really the main focus of the story. All questions will be answered eventually though, and hoohoo, well, guess you'll just have to see.  
> 


	21. Aquaintence

"Lady." The young boy repeated a third time and this time Amélie didn't bother containing her sigh as he continued to circle the statue and relentlessly question her. His childish attempt to wear her down was more effective than she'd expected, with patience not exactly being her strong suit.

" _What._ " She demanded finally.

"You really stink. Is that blood?" He asked as he came to a halt and pointed to the bottom of her coat with an air of interest.

"Go away kid." She muttered with a disinterested gaze back to the door. "You shouldn't be out after dark... Besides, didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"My mother's dead, you idle-headed tart." He informed her snidely while shoving his hands into his pant pockets.

Amélie scrunched her face at the shrewd and unexpected insult and she glared down at him, seeing he seemed proud almost of his pompous disposition.

"Yeah, well mine's dead too but you don't see me whining about it," She retorted sharply and folded her arms as she leaned against the statue, "And you don't exactly seem all that torn up about it."

"Hard to be sad when your mum's a cold hearted drunkard," He muttered coldly and Amélie noticed with growing annoyance that he mimicked her stance, folding his arms and leaning against the stone as well. As if he couldn't get any more irritating. "You Hunters are a neat bunch, with all your weapons and stuff. I didn’t even know they let ladies be Hunters...? Huh… Say can I see that saw thing? Bet I can carry it with one hand too."

As he rambled she silently prayed for Eileen to hurry it up. No doubt if she tried to distract herself with a walk around the premises, the runt would surely follow.

Meanwhile Henryk watched restlessly as his two friends continued to argue over worry's sake alone. A routine that never seemed to get old between the two.

"For heaven’s sake Gascoigne, can’t ya stay within a five mile radius of home for more than three seconds?! What did ya tell her this time? Or did ya even let her know you were leaving?" Eileen had criticized unbelievably.

There was no telling how long the hunt here could draw out for, but however long that would be, it was certainly too long for Viola to be looking after an infant without a husband.

"Of course I did!" He defended himself with a grumble and took a seat at a wooden table, setting the bottle down with a weighty _clunk_. "I may be itching for a good hunt, but I'm hardly _that_ fickle."

"Naturally. _"_ She replied dryly and turned sharply to the other man in question. "And no doubt you dragged Henryk here as well. Why didn't ya talk him out of it?"

"I did actually." He responded calmly, his demeanor as composed as always.

"And?"

"I was opposed to the idea the moment I realized he intended to cross through the gates, but… well… You see there was this,- "

"Spit it out before you choke on it, Henryk." 

"What the poor man is trying to say," Gascoigne interrupted with a creeping smirk on his face now as his partner floundered over his words with a degree of shame. "Is that a certain fluffy feline happened to slip through the bars and wander into the infected part of town, and just as we were about to head home no less. Need I continue?"

Eileen sighed and shook her head in defeat, knowing Henryk’s urge to adopt every animal he came across quite well enough to figure out the rest of that story. No doubt it was the very same cat sitting smugly on the steps outside.

"Well, in all fairness," Henryk began reluctantly. "I admit it was difficult to resist the allure of a good hunt. The beasts in my day were certainly more challenging than the occasional one found in Central."

Eileen rolled her eyes when he said this, having little care for their excuses. The Minister himself had told her that he had no business here, and crossing the Church was a very unwise thing to do, especially when one had a family to care for. But, there wasn't much that could be done of it now.

"I don't have the time to scold ya about your thrill seeking,” Gascoigne frowned with disregard when she said this, but she ignored the look and the beak of her mask angled towards the second Hunter in question. “Or to comfort you about your apparent mid-life crisis?”

Henryk scoffed in an offended manner as well, but also found it quite difficult to defend himself. The truth was neither of them had much reason to be there besides fulfilling their own desires, or so it seemed to be put so far.

" _Just,_ _tell me_ if Viola's sister is here, and I will be satisfied."

"Oh Olivia's here, in fact we were the ones that brought her here." Gascoigne spoke with an ounce of pride now and Eileen nodded, feeling a sudden weight off her shoulders.

"Good." She breathed and nodded approvingly. The irritation building quickly diminished and as a result she didn’t have enough spite left in her at this point to keep up her reprimand. Somewhere in her mind she was even grateful now to be among friendly faces. The Powder Kegs are a bombastic group, and she couldn't help but assume her presence wasn't entirely welcome so far. "Seems you two got the job done faster than I could. I'm impressed with how fast ya managed to pull it off, if not a little suspicious."

The front door of the dingy apartment building opened and shut behind them while she said this and the Minister immediately called out to the approaching Powder Keg eagerly, welcoming any change of topic.

"Pete! Tell me, how did your hunt go?"

The Hunter pulled his hat off and came to a stop when he called out to him and a moments thought convinced him to join the newest arrivals.

"Not well." He spoke tiredly as he approached the trio. "We lost Edmund. And two others."

"How dreadful." Henryk quietly offered his condolences in light of the grave news.

The man nodded solemnly and rubbed the back of his neck sluggishly as he spoke. "It was quite the ordeal. Luckily your friend here showed up just in the knick of time. And oddly enough she seemed to know just what to do."

"I see..." Gascoigne commented less intently, his eyes flickering back to Eileen when he said this.

"Comes with the job I'm afraid." She spoke earnestly.

"Job you say? Well, you'll certainly find much business here. Most of these folk are not used to killing so much in a single night, and even during the day, if there's enough of the beasts. It isn't the first time one of us has lost it, but we usually lose another afterwards as a direct result. I don't believe I've thanked you yet for doing what no one else could in that moment. We aren't normally so crude, but-... Well, you caught us at an extraordinarily troubled time."

She nodded respectfully to the kindness and a smile pulled at her lips under her mask. She remembered a time when someone she had once respected highly warned her that it would be a thankless job. For a long while she'd thought him to be right. That was before she had met Hunters such as this.

Gascoigne listened to the exchange quietly, concern already settling in when he learned of the events that transpired. There was a brief hope that there wouldn't be too many more of these blood addled hunters, if only to preserve Eileen's sanity. He had seen in the past what such things could do to a person, and it was never pleasant to see a friend fall into such a dark place.

The Crows hidden smile faded as questions quickly formed in her mind now that she was met with someone who could answer them. There was a serious fault in her understanding as to how Lower Yharnam had come to be in such a state. Beasts burning in the streets, walking in broad daylight, and townsfolk being herded into safe houses? The situation seemed immensely dire for many people, yet to her knowledge, all of this had been prevented not long after the quarantine had been issued.

"We were told that a cure had been issued that resolved the illness plaguing this part of town." Eileen alleged skeptically, taking the liberty of speaking for the other two as well. As far as she knew, they had been told the same. "Just how long have things been this urgent?"

"There was a cure. And for a time it worked. It was only two weeks ago that the beasts began to turn at more alarming rates... We were sent here long before that though, our orders being to slay the creatures before they became too visible to the populace. We were told this was to insure that the peace was kept, and to guard against the threat of a panic. Clearly we are passed that point though." He answered her almost wearily and checked his watch as he spoke. "The Church still arrives from time to time, providing relief and supplies, and the beasts are manageable for the time being as long as we hunt in controlled groups. But it's no question that they grow in numbers each night, and it is no longer safe for the people to stay in their homes, despite what they believe. We've lost more hunters in the past month than we have in the past five years. Some to the beasts, and some lost to themselves..." He added more quietly. "Make no mistake. The situation is more lethal than you have probably been made aware of. Though I feel you three may already know this by now."

Eileen listened quietly as he filled them in on the unfortunate events that had been transpiring directly below the cozy homes of Yharnam and the Cathedral ward, all of this while hunters above no doubt griped over the lack of beasts to be found, and it wasn't until the mention of the blood addled that she closed her eyes with growing remorse and shook her head dismally. To think she had had her mind so focused on one single area while Hunters had been suffering and aiming weapons on there own kind. She knew of course she wasn't entirely to blame for this blunder. There were people tasked with keeping her alerted of this exact sort of happening, people that were no doubt being left in the dark as well. It was an infuriating thing being kept ignorant merely so the Church could attempt to hide whenever their control wavered. But, there was no time to criticize the questionable oversights of the Church to a hunter that was not to blame. There was a mess to be cleaned now and a very urgent one.

"I hope you've been keeping track of where these blood addled Hunter's are?"

"I..." Pete frowned, averting his eyes in thought. The thought hadn't struck him that she would see fit to tackle the task head on, and secretly he was hoping she would linger for just a while longer, at least until he was certain that she could be a useful asset. "There are a few areas we have been warned against, but as for specifics you'll find better luck with our survey group. They are the ones that trek through the more infected streets during the night."

"The very one that's gone missing I assume." She recalled gloomily.

"They have yet to appear," The Hunter began hesitantly. "But it may be a few days early to say they've gone missing. They were to return with medicine for the sick, since our supply will soon begin to run low, and it's really the only thing keeping the ill sane. The group mostly consisted of Dreamers, along with a couple of traditional Hunters, so death shouldn't have been much of an issue. I'm hesitant to advocate for sending more out after them..."

"Sounds to me like an opportunity to scout out the beasts." Gascoigne offered happily. "Perhaps-"

"No..." Eileen murmured thoughtfully as she considered how to proceed. "You two best stay by here for the time being, ensure the beasts stay at a safe distance from the townsfolk. Now, where exactly was this group headed...?" 

Amélie drew a deep calming breath when the child asked yet another question about the types of beasts she had slain. No matter how short or boorish she made her answers, he never quite seemed to get the hint. Hell, even telling him outright to beat it didn't make it clear enough. Her luck with bothersome children seemed more frequent as of late. She was by no means a person who disliked them, but that opinion was quickly changing.

"Hey, is that a gun?"

"Don't touch." She moved away as he reached out suddenly to grasp the pistol on her belt partially obscured by her coat.

"Aw, you're just like the rest." He pouted with a groan and kicked at a pebble on the ground. "None of em will let me 'ave one. What am I supposed to do if one of them beasts tries to eat me?"

Amélie carefully considered what helpful advice she could lend the poor boy in his tortured state.

"Try dousing yourself in some sort of savory meat sauce. I guarantee you it'll eat you much faster." She flashed him a grin, and his face quickly twisted with annoyance.

"Hmph. _Fine_. You’ll eat those words when I'm dead though." He grumbled and held her gaze almost defiantly.

"I'm pretty sure the only thing getting eaten is you, kid."

"Who's getting eaten here?" Eileen's voice suddenly queried. She'd left the confines of the residence and already begun heading towards them, much to Amélie's delight. She noticed the two Hunters at her side as well, one of them quite obviously wearing Church attire, which was only slightly worrying at the moment. Her initial delight though quickly faded back into irritation when the kid sniffed and began to rub his eyes.

"This mean old lady says the monsters are gonna get me." The child feigned despondency with impressive improvisation, and Amélie scoffed in astonishment.

"I did not!" She sputtered and lowered her hands unbelievably. "This little brat-!"

"Go on, run along inside Ollie, no ones falling for your act." Gascoigne interrupted the squabble, already having dealt with the troublesome boy before. "And besides, it's dangerous for a small lad to be walking about out here. Go on in and look after your sister."

The kid abandoned the theatrics a bit too quickly and puffed an agitated breath.

"It wouldn't be so dangerous if you would just let me 'ave a gun." He reprimanded in a grumble as he made his way to the stone steps of the door slowly, taking the time to kick any decently sized pebble he came across as if he were making some sort of point with the action.

A pleased smile formed on Amélie's face as she watched him leave and she looked back to the man she had to thank for finally ridding her of the pest.

Or rather, looked up. 

"Greetings..." She acknowledged the towering man slowly. "My, you're certainly-"

"Tall, yes I'm aware." He spoke pleasantly and held out a hand with a friendly toothy grin that certainly matched his robust demeanor. "I am Gascoigne, deliverer of the Church's good will. And this is my partner and long time friend, Henryk."

"I see." She spoke hesitantly as she shook his hand, feeling a twinge of apprehension now by the mentioned occupation. She also noticed the pungent scent of blood that seemed to dwell in the air around him. The man truly seemed the exemplar example of a Church Hunter though, his massive weapons clearly reflecting the merciless stance the organization took on the scourge.

"And I take it you must be Eileen's new partner?" He ventured almost merrily, and Amélie frowned slightly under her mask.

"Uh-..." She felt the need to correct him upon instinct, but ultimately found a lack of a better word in her mind. Partner sounded much too official for what was an association by convenience, but perhaps that's what it was, be it short.

"Partner?" Henryk spoke up with what almost sounded to be a disappointed tone. "Why didn't I hear of this development?"

The blonde cleared her throat and began to wonder if he planned on releasing her hand anytime soon.

"Because she's not my partner." Eileen stated dully and Gascoigne's cheery disposition was replaced by a puzzlement as he turned to her.

"She's not?"

"I'm not?" Amélie turned to her as well and the four shared an awkward exchange of glances. It wasn't uncommon for a greeting between strangers to be met with a small amount of awkwardness but she still wondered why they were all behaving so strangely.

Eileen finally rolled her eyes and motioned a hand towards her, about done with their bumbling. "Since you three seem incapable of carrying out a greeting, this is-"

"Emily. Emily Barton." Amélie quickly interrupted her with a returned pleasant smile now, and he finally released her hand with a polite nod.

"Yes..." Eileen abided, keeping suspicion out of her voice. She also noticed Amélie claimed the last name of one of the people who Pete had named on the survey group. She kept this knowledge to herself for the moment though. "A Beast Hunter like yourselves. Though she works without the oversight of the church."

"There are times I envy you then, Miss Barton." The Minister observed.

"We're working together to carry out a job here." Eileen continued, to appease their nosiness if anything. "After that I doubt either of you will be seeing her again."

"Sounds about right." Amélie affirmed and turned to her. "...What now?"

"These two, will be staying _here,_ until we return, watching over their kin while we make our way towards the last known location of the missing survey group."

She blinked and glanced to the side as she considered her words, choosing to ignore Eileen's oddly agitated state and the now deflated expressions of the duo's faces. She was grateful though that they weren't tagging along to wherever it was they were going. As amicable as the two seemed, she preferred anything that put distance between her and a member of the Church.

"Ah. And we are doing this... Why?" She queried.

"Because _,_ ” The Crow explained flatly. The Beast Hunter's enthusiasm to lend a helping hand could use work. “That group just happened to be heading in the direction of a certain warehouse you were very interested in. Unless you've suddenly had a change of- "

"Oh!" Amélie straightened her posture immediately, certainly more eager to hear this part. "You should have started with that." She pushed off of the statue and held an arm out elegantly towards the gate. "By all means. Lead the way."

"You two try to keep your hands clean." Eileen addressed the two men briefly before muttering to Amélie. "And _don't_ think we're killing every beast we come across. Let's make this quick. I've other things to do besides escorting you through town."

Amélie's arm fell, along with her face which donned a more irritated look. "Of course. Anything to please you, your illustriousness..." She chided in a low voice, not bothering to bid any kind of farewell to the other two as she followed her. She came to an abrupt stop though and turned back to them, almost forgetting something she had picked up.

"This...  _Olivia."_ She began unsure, referring to the alleged woman Eileen had initially been tasked to find. "I take it she is well?"

"Quite so." Gascoinge answered her, appreciating the fact that she took an interest in the well-being of his family.

That was hardly the reason though.

"Ah. Good to hear." She spoke lightly, and she pulled something from her pocket and threw in into the air. He caught the object with ease and looked down at the gold jewel-encrusted bracelet in his hands with a raised brow.

"I suppose she'll be needing this then." She turned away again and the two heard a barely audible conversation between the departing hunters about leaving things where they are supposed to stay. Gascoigne and Henryk watched silently as they left, waiting until they were surely out of earshot to speak.

"That was…" Henryk began uncertainly.

"Interesting." Gascoigne finished and craned his head to look down at him with a grin, the rim of his hat almost creating a shadow of mischief over his eyes and Henryk picked on the suspicion in his glance. “You don’t suppose...?”

"I hardly think so. I imagine she would have behaved much more awkwardly if they were."

"Hm. Perhaps we could…?" He tapped the tips of his fingers together curiously as he suggested this.

“ _Gascoigne_ ," The yellow garbed Hunter warned with disapproval as they began to walk back towards the entrance of the building. "This is hardly the time to be playing matchmaker. I think we’ve incited her rage enough."

"Good point." He sighed in surrender as he held open the door for him. "...There's nothing wrong with a little wager though, is there?"

The yellow garbed Hunter considered this quietly for a few moments before walking through.

"Fifty says nothing comes of it." 

 _"Deal."_ He replied almost too enthusiastically and followed after him. "I was hoping you would choose that bet."

"I only choose it because I know which side you prefer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the halt in updates, I'm still here. A few chapters are long overdue, and I'll be posting much more come the next few days.


	22. Vulgar Meetings

The heavy iron gates closed behind them and the two hunters found themselves once again strolling down the streets of the plagued town. The ash scented air was dark still, but four or five hours time would surely yield light, and Amélie began to wonder what Artemis would be up to when the sun rose. It had been awhile since she'd strayed so far from the shop, and for the first time since she had arrived in lower Yharnam, she felt worry. The gunsmith never liked having people fussing over him, but it was obvious that his mind had begun to drift in his old age, something he never denied but hardly dwelled on either. He typically fared well by himself, but as time went on, so did her concern that one day something more unfortunate than forgotten keys or an unlocked door might come to pass. 

An audible yawn beside her drew her out of her mind as they turned into a narrow alleyway, off of the exposed streets and into the cover of the tightly packed framework of the city.

"Tired?" Amélie alluded as she glanced over to the silent Hunter.

"No." Eileen replied plainly, though the heavy way she said it made her believe differently.

"Alright..." She spoke slowly, sensing that perhaps she wasn't in the mood to chit chat. Not that that kept her from doing so. "So, friends of yours I take it?"

"Yes."

"They seemed... Neighborly."

"And you seemed cautious," Eileen countered and Amélie immediately regretted her efforts for conversation. "I assumed merely mistrust at first, but now I'm beginning to think that maybe ya've done something to piss off the Church. Should I be expecting to find posters with your face on it?"

"You flatter me," The blonde replied with feigned sense of praise and beamed as she put a hand over her heart sweetly. "But not even I am that deranged."

Amélie heard a small chuckle, and she was glad that the Hunter wasn't making a bigger deal out of it. Most would have probably asked many more questions by now. If anything it only made it easier to stay in her company without uncertainty. 

"I don't mind ya havin' issue with the Church, " She assured her. "But at least tell me if I'm calling ya by the right name, whatever that may be."

"I,- Don't normally go around telling people my actual name. I just didn't expect you to be rubbing elbows with Churchies when we first met... Not to mention I may have been suffering from blood loss at the time," She spoke almost aimlessly for moment and shoved a hand into her pocket and absentmindedly moved her thumb over cool metal of her watch, her hands itching to distract herself from restlessness. The night they had met had been a confusing one, and one of the more bitter ones among the past few years. Bitter enough to drive her near enough to the Church, something she avoided like a plague, just for a taste of revenge. After a few moments of distracted thought she realized she'd left her reply a bit too open ended. "These days it's just by force of habit to say it's Emily... But you're fine. I mean, Amélie is fine. I'm not as concerned over it as you may think. It's just around the Church... Well. I think you get the point. I'll stop."

"Good. I prefer it," Eileen admitted. It didn't escape her notice that she had fallen into an almost nervous ramble, and she made a note to keep their topics over identity at a minimum. "And I choose my company carefully. They're good people, and the Church controls less aspects of their character than you might imagine... And, if I were you, I would worry less about getting shipped out of Yharnam. In the eyes of the Church, a good Hunter is a valuable asset. Citizen or not."

Amélie hummed weakly in response, not really finding the advice relevant to her situation. She hit the nail on the head though when she pointed out her lack of citizenship, and Amélie hoped it wasn't as obvious to anyone else who spent more than a few hours in her company. She was suddenly reminded that there was a reason she kept mostly to herself. And it wasn't because she preferred solitude. No, even for someone as wary as herself, there were times she wished she could walk among her fellow Yharnamites and feel welcomed. But reality was much different than what she wanted, and things were easier when one kept a low profile.

These thoughts soon faded and she immediately grew cautious when she spotted the barely visible silhouette of someone turning a corner far ahead and briskly walking towards them. Even though it was probably a mere chance encounter, she couldn't help but tense. She instinctively drew closer to the Crow, watching the figure intently. Dark alleys and strangers had proven violent in the past, after all. 

"Look's to be a Hunter," Eileen commented quietly, seeing the same figure. She didn't fail to notice they were almost shoulder to shoulder now, and once again she found herself wondering what exactly had happened that night she was supposedly attacked by those men ailing with the scourge. When they first met it was clear Amélie wasn't fond of sharing much of the incident, but as time went on she wondered if the encounter was far more morbid than she let on. It wasn't hard to tell the Hunter was easily angered, but whatever blow to her pride was taken must have been a rough one if it kept her determined to find her beast even long after a weeks time. She knew though that prying into these things probably wouldn't be taken well. Perhaps if there came a time when she was more comfortable in her presence, then she might venture to ask, but for the meantime, helping her find the beast seemed the best course to take.

As the man came nearer they could tell he had little interest in acknowledging their presence, and Amélie muttered to her skeptically.

"Should we ask if he's seen the group we're supposedly looking for?"

"He seems very keen on getting somewhere. But, if ya think it might help."

The distinguished brown hat on his head hid his face from view as he came close enough for her to make out features and the two came to a stop just before he passed between them.

"Excuse me, you haven't happened to have-?"

Her question was cut short when their shoulder's suddenly collided and he shot out an arm to steady her momentarily as he danced around the Hunter in a rush to get past her. Her hat fell over her eyes just before she could see his face, and by the time her sight returned she was already on the opposite side of her.

"Sorry 'bout that love!" He called out to her briefly before promptly carrying on, and Amélie had a difficult time believing he hadn't noticed her standing directly in his way.

"Well that was irritating," She grumbled and she brushed a hand over her shoulder in annoyance and pushed her hat back up into place, "You'd think a Hunter of all people would have proper eyesight."

The man ignored her rather loud comment and stuffed a hand in his pocket as he continued to walk on. The Crow clicked her tongue in a dubious manner, the first hint that there was something she disapproved of.

"You aren't the most aware Hunter, are you?" Eileen suddenly articulated, and Amélie's face contorted in vague offense.

"What's that supposed to mean? He's the one who walked into me."

"Yes, well," she mused mirthfully and looked back to the Hunter who was now whistling a merry tune as he strolled confidently, still within earshot and spinning something gold on a chain in his hand. "...I'm sure that had nothing to do with the fact that he just stole your watch." 

The man in question came to an immediate stop and glanced back at her with a briefly stunned look and Amélie's hand immediately flew to the spot on her coat above her pocket, her mouth falling open in disbelief when she felt it flat. The moment she looked up at him he took off running, and she quickly yelled out to him.

" _You bastard!_ " 

" _Really_ Amélie, I'd expected more from one such as yourself," Eileen called after her with an air of amusement when she immediately went after him, gaining admirably fast ground.

The thief quickly realized that he wouldn't make it very far with the fast approaching, and very angry, Hunter at his heels, so he quickly decided to take his chances with the odder looking one of the two. The moment she came close enough to confidently reach out a hand to grab him he abruptly lurched to the side and went the opposite way, and Amélie stumbled forward unskillfully when he suddenly changed directions, turning back with a growl and quickly regaining her footing to pursue the chase.

The man's mad dash came to a stop with a nervous chuckle though when Eileen immediately walked into the center of the alley and drew her blades, holding them lightly at her side in a subtle yet obvious statement to cease.

"Oh, needing to pull a weapon on an unarmed citizen. How violent," The stranger quipped and Eileen's brow rose. He possessed a surprisingly snarky attitude.

She joined the blades back together and put the weapon back on her belt, holding her hands out to the side with small shrug and a hidden smirk. "Who says I need them?"

His cheeky expression wavered as he continued to stare, glancing back nervously at the quickly advancing Hunter behind him but suddenly not possessing the nerve to go any further.

"Okay, in all honesty I didn't think that would actually work, and frankly that just made you much less approachable. And that's not even with the, uh-" He mocked earnestly and motioned a hand over his face in reference to her mask. This time Eileen offered no reply, his boldness quickly growing old.

Amélie came to a stop on the other side him, finally trapping him between the two and leaving little means of escape, something he quickly realized with a composing sigh.

"Alright, ladies," He held up his hands in defense after she halted and began to walk towards him with a clear air of irritation. "I can tell that perhaps this wasn't the best street to wander onto, but there's no need for- Pardon you, this is my best coat!" He suddenly argued when Amélie grabbed his shoulder and pushed him over to the wall.

"I think you owe me a very _heartfelt_ apology," The blonde hissed, and he looked down at the hand grasping his coat in mild annoyance. 

"You're right, I'm terribly sorry..." He offered almost genuinely." ...That I got caught."

"You are going to be much more sorry if you don't return what you've stolen." She spoke gravely, and he swatted her hand away when she attempted to pry into one of his pockets. He opened his mouth to speak again before a rapid clicking of claws drew her attention away from him for a pressured moment when she expected an advancing beast. Her eyes instead fell on a rather large hound running almost jovially towards them. With it's master now in sight, it's excitement grew drastically, and it didn't take long for it to run the length of the alley with impressive speed.

" _Gracie!_ " He suddenly called out to her with a shrill whistle and her hand flew to her gun for a panicked moment. "Get her!"

The weapon heeded no need though, as the dog came to an immediate stop a few feet away, raising it's nose and sniffing the air dubiously while patting it's front feet in a restless manner. It quickly picked up the familiar scent of hunters and saw no cause for alarm, sitting back on it's hind legs and patiently waiting for it's master to continue their trek. Eileen was the only one that found the sight amusing.

"Real useful dog ya got here," She observed, finding the entertaining situation a very welcomed thing considering the state of things. She held a hand out to the canine and it only spared seconds of it's time to inspect her fingers before paying her little mind. It then lied down lazily with it's tongue hanging loosely from it's mouth as it panted, perfectly happy to rest it's legs.

"Heh, well, can't blame her," He spoke up in the dogs defense, "She'd be plenty willing to sink her teeth into you if you were a beast though. Best dog there is at it."

"I don't care for your mutt's prestige, I want my  _watch._ "

His smug expression wavered now.

"Excuse me, but do you  _know_ who I am?" He accused with a sense of extreme displeasure.

Amélie stared blankly at him for a few moments in response to his apparent narcissism.

"Not in the slightest." 

"Good," He grinned almost too suspiciously. "That's what I was counting on."

A foot suddenly shot out and caught the back of her ankle and he kicked her foot out from under her, making it all the easier to push her backwards. The action landed her on her butt with hardly an ounce of grace. Eileen watched the display with a sigh, shaking her head almost disappointedly.

"Don't let him go!" She shouted urgently to Eileen the second he pushed off the wall and to run.

" _Honestly,_ Amélie," Eileen chided as he tried to dash past her, "This is just getting-"

Her criticism quickly died off when the weasel proved more trickier than she'd assumed. The moment she had shot out a hand to grasp his arm he twisted out of her grip with surprising deftness and she shot her other arm forward and grabbed him by the back of his collar instead just as he almost managed to slip by her, determined not to let him make a fool of them both. The dog watched the exciting display with little sense of urgency, wagging it's tail more wildly as it dawdled, and Amélie was already on her feet, the approaching hunters escaping her notice.

The thief's face lit up when he spotted his squadmates though, and he quickly grabbed something from his pocket and held it up, far out of reach. _'Finally someone of use.'_

"Ah, Liz, perfect timing. Catch!" He shouted out to one of them and threw the watch just before she could make a desperate grab it. Amélie watched it fly through the air, a sinking feeling in her chest when she thought for sure that her favorite gift from Artemis was sure to be destroyed when it hit the ground.

The woman caught it readily though and sighed, addressing him with clear distaste. "For fuck's sake Tommy, now who have you pissed-... Wait..." She abruptly trailed off when she looked down at the familiar timepiece in her palm, and Amélie herself skidded to a stop and froze when she recognized the familiar voice. "Where did you-...?"

She looked past the squabble to see the blonde Hunter standing motionless, the expression above her mask visibly shocked.

"...Amélie?"

Eileen released her hold over his shirt, realizing that this was the survey group they had just set out to find, no doubt already making their way back.

Tommy himself glanced awkwardly between the two now that he was free, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "Well, this is..." He began with an anxious laugh, but his words ultimately found no followup for once.

Elizabeth quickly recovered from her surprise and handed her massive hammer like armament to the confused Hunter beside her, an enormous weapon she seemed to handle with ease, and she walked towards her with a grin and open arms.

"Amélie,  _you miserable bitch,_ when did you- ?" Her snide greeting was cut off when promptly Amélie stepped forward and planted a fist straight into the side of her face. She couldn't bring herself to throw her full weight into it of course, but the hit was still enough to make her stagger, and it was certainly a satisfying sight to see.

Eileen's face wasn't the only one to shift into surprise, and she heard Tommy mutter a curse under his breath, the Hunter knowing that his partner wouldn't be taking this lightly. Elizabeth stumbled for only a second before scowling and throwing the watch back to Tommy who immediately sighed when it seemed his prediction held true, and she grabbed Amélie suddenly by the front of her coat and slammed her back against the brick wall with a sneer.

" _Care to explain what that was for?!"_ The dark haired Hunter hissed furiously.

"Would it _kill_ you to drop by maybe once a year?!" Amélie seethed back under her breath, having no care now for the few curious onlookers. "I'm tired of having to deal with him worrying about you all the time!"

"I already told him I might not be able to write anymore, its not my fault he gets so damn _forgetful!"_

The insensitive comment only furthered her anger and Amélie shoved her back, making the two stumble just until Elizabeth's back hit the opposite wall of the narrow alley.

A Hunter among the group wearing an ashen grey attire was the only one who possessed the nerve to speak out against the fight, not one to enjoy the way things were going.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to fight amongst-"

"Shut it Djura!" Elizabeth growled, and he closed his mouth with a dreary sigh.

"Very well," He replied under his breath, patting the hammer idly as he glanced around the alley for any threats drawn to the noise, "It's not as if we're surrounded by beasts and death. Yes, this is the perfect time for an argument, I'm sure."

The two hunters ignored his dissatisfaction and the rest only stared uncomfortably as they continued to scuffle and throw accusations, and Eileen glanced dully over to the thief beside her as he regarded her all too merrily.

"I'll get mine if you get yours?" Tommy suggested lightly.

Eileen opened her mouth to inform him that she in fact had little ownership over the woman, but he already had begun to approach them, seemingly with the intention of breaking the fight up before it got too aggressive. 

She sighed crossly and muttered under her breath, "Deal."

"What are you-!?" Amélie exclaimed when Eileen suddenly grasped her arms from behind and firmly dragged her back. The Crow moved her head to the side sharply, annoyance finally growing in her when the back of her head almost smacked into her mask.

"I thought ya understood me earlier when I said that we don't need anymore fights," She growled when the Beast Hunter struggled against her hold not much unlike an infant throwing a tantrum.

Tommy quickly grabbed Elizabeth as well and the two pried them apart as the other hunters and spectators watched keenly, a few of them already whispering to each other now. Elizabeth found the interruption much more insulting than Amélie did, not at all a surprise to anyone who knew her.

"I'm not a fucking child tom, I don't need you to referee my fights!"

"Liz, crazy thought, but maybe this time we should get to _know_ the person better first before we knock their teeth out?!" 

"I already-!"

" _What the hell is going on here?_ "

The assertive voice suddenly silenced all talk as two other members finally caught up to the scene. The hunters all fell quiet and Elizabeth wretched her arm from his hold with a grimace, finding her in a position to explain herself to a superior.

"Nothing," She spoke quickly and swiped her weapon back from Djura, who only crossed his arms with a bored look. "Just a small disagreement between _friends_."

She spat her last word directly at Amélie, who glared back as well with a scowl under her mask sharp enough to cut flesh.

" _Good._ " The woman quickly continued, cutting off any further aggression with an authoritative tone. "Because we have places to be. No doubt Harper has probably aged ten years since we've been gone."

Amélie's expression immediately fell when she spoke the dead man's name. The group still had no idea their commander was long passed.

The change in her face didn't go entirely unnoticed, and Elizabeth's eyes narrowed when she recognized the familiar tell of something amiss.

“ _What._ What is it?” She demanded sternly, being the only one in the group to see the sudden gloom on her face.

The blonde wiggled her arms away from Eileen, indicating for her release, and the Crow let go immediately, surer now that she wasn't going to attempt to pummel anyone. Amélie cleared her throat and shoved her hands into her pockets before opening her mouth to answer.

"Edmund's dead," Eileen spoke quickly before she could, and Amélie glanced back at her warily when she suddenly made herself the bearer of bad news.

A stunned silence fell over them, and Elizabeth found her voice faster than the rest.

"You're sure...?"

"Yes." The Crow answered her honestly. "It was my blade that did it. He-"

The confusion on her face immediately donned anger again as she took a step forward with a venomous reply. " _You killed him?"_  

Tensions rapidly rose again and Amélie had little care for her irateness and quickly shot to her defense since she seemed content with not listening.

"You weren't _there,_ Elizabeth. The man was raving mad, there was nothing to be done."

Her accusation quickly died when the blonde defended her and her face grew just as bleak as the others, her tense shoulders falling. Their eyes turned to the stern woman who had ended the disagreement, and one by one they began to realize that she next in line. Elizabeth opened her mouth to ask more of what happened before she was quickly cut off by her new commander.

"Come Hunters. Let's get back," She spoke quietly and continued on, passing Eileen and Amélie without a word. The rest slowly followed her, and Amélie decided it was probably a good time to leave as well. There was a beast out there that needed killing anyways and this was just time wasted.

Elizabeth intentionally passed by her, holding out a hand and grasping her upper arm to bring her to a stop for a moment and her previously angered disposition was gone suddenly.

"It's good to see you," She spoke quietly without turning to look to her, "Don't wander off just yet."

She released her arm and continued on walking, and the Hunter named Tommy followed closely behind her and tossed the forgotten watch out to her with a lopsided grin. She fumbled to catch it with a frown, hoping it wasn't broken, and he flicked the brink of his hat and sent her a sly wink. With that the last two hunters walked on. 

Amélie stood still where she had been stopped, watching over her shoulder as they left. Her uncertain gaze drifted to Eileen who had been standing idly by and watching silently.

She took notice of the glance and replied, "Your call, Hunter." 

Amélie considered this indifference before letting out a fierce breath, turning sharply and heading back the way they had come. Eileen wasn't completely surprised by her decision, and followed after her with a faint smile.

Having quite the ear for drama, she was curious of course about the heated encounter, but even more so about the events that had transpired while the hunters were out fighting the beasts. So she left Amélie - who seemed content to apparently brood from a distance - to listen in on the tense discussion between Pete and the new commander, a rather serious woman going by the nickname Sam.

She discovered that the survey group had unfortunately never made it to their intended destination. The beasts were too many, and they'd apparently picked up a few rogue Hunters and townsfolk along the way, The squad returned reluctantly, not wanting to risk losses by pressing any further. There was also a curious mention of a loss of contact with an important piece of powerful artillery atop a tall tower. Something she decided to keep in mind.

As time went on she grew increasingly disturbed with how weak a hold the hunters had over the beasts. She wasn't one to join others on a beast hunt often, but it was something she would gladly do if it meant helping to get a handle on things.

Her eyes flickered back over to Amélie as a few of the hunters began to move indoors, and it took little thought for her to decide to check on her.

The Hunter hung outside the gates with her back resting against the black metal bars, never actually stepping foot on the property since the minutes that had passed and waiting patiently for Elizabeth to finish collaborating with her comrades. So far their reunion had started off on a sour note, but disagreements were hardly uncommon between her and her former partner, so this was not nearly as troubling as the thought of what they would be discussing later was.

She heard footsteps approaching and looked over her shoulder expecting to see Elizabeth, only to see Eileen stop at the other side of the bars and lean a shoulder against the gate, folding her arms.

"You're sulking." She pointed out almost funnily and Amélie's face soured just a bit. No doubt she found the whole thing very amusing, but humor wasn't something she had much of a mind for at the moment.

"I'm waiting." She corrected her in monotone.

"Hm... Well, that went about as well as expected," She continued, “I hear most of them made it back, which is good news. They even managed to bring back a few strays.”

Amélie’s gaze moved skeptically to her side where the Crow stood.

"You knew she was in that group. Didn't you." She stated more than asked.

"I may have heard a familiar name, but at the time I thought you a much more civil person, so I didn't give it much thought."

She gave a false huff of amusement before replying flatly, "Sorry to disappoint."

"I'm sure ya had your reasons. I just hope she isn't the type to bear grudge. The Powder Kegs are not faring well at the moment, and we may yet be working with them after all."

"It wasn't as serious as it looked," She assured her with little emotion, "Our first meeting wasn't as warm either. That was merely history repeating itself."

A silenced passed over them and Eileen turned her head to watch the figures of hunters talking around a fire pit. No doubt they were already discussing what to do next. There was still a large amount of people they were cut off from, and the Powder Kegs certainly weren't the type to leave their own behind lightly. Not if they still lived anyways.

“Does the weaponsmith know you fancied his daughter?”

The question admittedly caught her off guard and Amélie's eyes narrowed when she suddenly spoke these words with the faintest hint of teasing.

"No," She answered, shifting her weight to her other foot for a moment, "And I would like to keep it that way, if you don't mind.”

"Don't think he'd approve?"

"Ha," She laughed dully, her expression not meeting the chuckle, "Hardly."

"Well, she seems... Charming." It wasn’t the word she was quite thinking of, but it seemed the proper thing to say. 

Amélie’s gaze flickered to the barely visible appearance of a beast approaching further down the street, no doubt drawn by the light or perhaps the noise. It was a cozy setup the Powder Kegs had made, the small grassy area in front of the buildings illuminated by dim lanterns and fires. There were tents pitched where they surely kept documents and supplies, and she had managed a glance into one once, seeing the new Commander surrounded by hunters as they spoke in hushed voices. There was a feeling of combative comradeship in there air whenever a group laughed together and drank from their mugs, or muttered amongst themselves over papers and maps, and it was a stark contrast to the way things were only a mile or two into the drab city, past the safe confines of the guarded refuge.

It was no wonder Elizabeth seemed so fond of this life. It certainly never seemed dull.

She saw an opportunity for distraction when the beast drew nearer and sharply unfolded her saw and decided to claim it before any other Hunter could become aware of the approaching target. Surely it would be taken down swiftly if she waited too long. 

"Sometimes," She offered a reply as she walked past the Crow without a spared glance. A discussion of past lovers wasn't something she was particularly in the mood for anyways. "But most times she's shockingly abrasive."

The beast suddenly escaped her mind though and she came to a slow stop when a shout from the other direction pulled their attention to a few approaching hunters, looking in rough shape. One was being dragged in the middle and seemed to be heavily injured. The idle hunters immediately snapped into action when one of them again shouted for help. They weren't the only hunters who ran out to meet them, but they were the first, and it wasn't long before people began to crowd around him attentively. It wasn't difficult to tell he had been the victim of a rather violent looking beast attack, long strips of claw marks cut into his attire and limbs. 

"What happened?" An faceless Hunter in the small crowd asked, and Eileen quickly joined the efforts to help lift the man, being among the first to go to his side.

"It-It was an accident, it was dark, and the beasts-" The bloodied man on the left began to sputter before Eileen cut him off.

The Crow didn't have to hear much more for her to realize this was also a case of friendly fire, and by the looks of it his lower side had been mostly shredded by what was probably a Blunderbuss. "Where is the doctor?"

"He's in the sick building, tending to the ill. I'll go-"

"Don't." She cut him off sternly and came to a halt, prompting the others to lower him when she spotted the heavy bleeding from his thigh spurting blood down his leg and onto the uneven street. Getting him inside was not a priority right now. "I need you here."

Amélie stood by and watched numbly as Hunters crowded around him, all applying pressure to different parts of his body as they set him on his back, and Eileen pressed a hand firmly into his thigh with a grimace, the blood pumping faster than she had previously thought, making the injury urgently dire. As if the shredded leg wasn't bad enough, she couldn't imagine the damage to his torso had it been a direct shot to more fatal organs. His upper body seemed most untouched though luckily, probably the only reason he still lived, but the heavy bleeding would in no way be fixed with normal blood, at least not fast enough to save his life. Most of it would probably wind up leaving the body faster than it could heal it, and no doubt he had already lost too much.

Her gaze suddenly snapped up to Amélie, finding both of her hands too urgently preoccupied when she settled on what needed to be done.

"Amélie, grab the long vial from the pouch on my side and give me your belt."

The blonde still stared, her gaze slowly shifting to Eileen, and the Crow scowled.

" _Now!"_

The strict order startled her into action and she did as she was told, removing her gun from ber belt hastily before yanking it off and retrieving the strange vial before kneeling over him with an unsure gaze. She hadn't the slightest idea how to do anything past applying basic pressure, and she hoped if anything else was asked of her, it was within her knowledge. It didn't help that the scent of so much blood began to make her uneasy, pushing down the sick curiosity of whether is tasted as good as it smelled.

Eileen quickly swiped the leather strap from her hand and began to wrap it around his upper leg as she raised it into the air, and one of the men glanced nervously between them when she motioned for him to hold the leg in place, his senses telling him this wasnt a good idea.

"You're giving him blood?"

"The wounds are too severe, and his femoral artery is pumping blood out faster than we can tend to him."

"But the bullets-!"

"Pulling shards from a live man is better than pulling them from a dead man," She growled back at him and sharply tightened the belt in one quick pull, holding it in place as she barked her next command. "Amélie, straight into his heart, go."

She acted immediately, jabbing the vial into his chest above the organ and the limp man moaned only three seconds later as he was suddenly roused from consciousness with a start. It was a relief to Eileen to see him responsive but this quickly became a problem when he began to stir in his newfound awareness, understandably confused.

"Hold him down, we don't need him thrashing. We only need a minute or two before we can move him again." The Hunters reluctantly obliged to her request, pushing his forearms back down when he tried to rise with unintelligible mutters and whimpers. She couldn't imagine the suffering, but at the moment pain was a tell of life, not comfort.

Thankfully his short fit ceased as he grew deathly still again, his eyes fluttering shut once again, and her grip over the end of the belt wavered as she considered when to remove it. It couldn't be kept on too long if they didn't want to risk damaging tissue, or worse nerves, something not easily fixed by blood, but if it was taken off too soon the returning blood flow would surely damage the constricted vessels. Without circulation though the wound wouldn't heal at all, making all efforts in vain.

Seconds ticked by before she gradually began to loosen the harness and the blood flow returned, seeping slowly at first and then pumping heavily again for a few tense moments before once again growing shallow as the healing took effect. She exhaled a steadying breath and nodded weakly the hunters who seemed to suddenly be watching her intently. In the following silence it dawned on her that they were looking to her for some sort of decree.

"Get him inside to wherever you hunters bring the wounded. If the doctor is no where to be seen I'll be there shortly. And for the God's sake, keep that leg _elevated_. At leat until it's fully healed."

There were brief words of acknowledgment and they lifted the man drenched in blood, the group slowly leaving them behind as some carried him and others worriedly followed after. Amélie was the first of the two to stand, doing so slowly and gazing back down at the Crow with a sullen expression.

"That was... unexpected," She conveyed weakly and Eileen huffed cynically with a shake of her head.

Unexpected was a tame word.

"You'd think these hunters would know how to apply a basic tourniquet. That should have been the _first_ thing they did," She muttered and the beak of her mask rose when she finally saw the hand held out in front of her. She rose her arm to take it before pausing and slowly pulling back, and Amélie noticed the way she glanced down at her blood soaked hands and lightly extended her fingers. Instead she placed a hand on the ground and stood by herself with a weary sigh. "I'd best go make sure they aren't killing him. I've a bad feeling I'm going to be spending the next hour digging bullets out of the poor man."

Amélie found herself unsure of what to do as she turned to walk away, so she followed after her, not seeing much harm in tagging along. At this point she felt far too invested in the matter to let it go and she was keen to know if he would even survive the event unscathed. Surely there would be some sort of toll. The Church preached their blood as a cure all but there were limits, some illnesses incurable, and some injuries too severe.

Her previous issues were all but forgotten now, a mere quarrel with an old partner suddenly not seeming all that important anymore in the light of an actual issue.

After a bit of asking around it didn't take long to find the location of the infirmary as they called it. It was a undeserving word Eileen thought for a room that was horribly contaminated, and she was sure the dried blood staining the sheets beneath the deathly pallid man was not his own. There were only two other hunters in the room now, one holding his hands down over the sleeping man's shoulder which was still slick with blood, while the other sat in a chair by the bedside, simply staring ahead at nothing and clearly distraught. There was no doctor to be seen at all, and with all of the rushing and debating she thought they could at least spare some thought for the injured. The man was being painfully overlooked, and these two were clearly not capable of properly assessing the situation, their shock turning them into unthinking statues. 

She didn't want to find herself devoting her time to this with all of the chaos happening outside the gates, but she could hardly pass the room in good conscience. So she walked in and took a brief look around, seeing that despite the state of the room it still possessed adequate equipment.

"The doctor?"

"We already sent for him," The nameless Hunter spoke distantly and offered only a meek glance out of the corner of his eye, "He says he will spare his time when he has it."

Eileen grew quiet and Amélie watched from the doorway when the reply was only followed by silence. The room grew dreadfully quiet before she finally exhaled and removed her gloves.

"Very well. Move aside, and see to it this one gets some rest," She told him softly, her gaze shifting to the one who she assumed pulled the trigger. The expression of his face was lifeless, save for the red that tinted his eyes, and he was dead silent. It was a morbid sight, one that saddened her. "I'll do what I can for now."

The Hunter nodded and left the bedside, pulling the other man out of the chair and guiding him into the hall.

Eileen coolly took off her belt and laid it down over a table beside the bed, and Amélie noticed for the first time the various tools situated onto it, previously hidden by her cape. She walked over to a metal stand that held a drip jar and inspected the tubes attached stained red and empty, but she assumed she wouldn't have to search far for blood in a room arranged for such things. It was a weak set up for blood ministration, but must have been put to effective use if the jars were empty.

An anxiousness began to rise in Amélie's chest when she opened a drawer and a familiar clang of medical tools was heard and her eyes fell instead on the silent Hunter as she tried to distract herself from the jarring sounds. He seemed much too young to be hunting in the first place, but she probably wasn't one to talk given she had started early as well.

The Crow raised a rather steely looking scalple and Eileen paused suddenly before removing his shirt, forgetting the quiet Hunter at the door until her eye caught her fidgety figure.

"Ya don't have to stay. The immediate danger's passed," She suddenly told her without meeting her eye, muttering aloud now to herself. "I just need t'figure out where he took the most damage and start extracting from there... Simple enough..."

The tense tone she used somehow didn't convey this plausible simplicity.

After the drip had been properly administered she began to cut the pants of his left leg, figuring the thigh was a good place to start since it seemed to have taken the extent of the damage. There were a hundred things going through her mind though as the fabric split. 

Perhaps the chunks of metal had been pushed along in his arteries, possibly moving throughout his body. Or perhaps organ failure from lack of blood would become an issue, if he truly lost enough to go into hemorrhagic shock. If this happened, all the blood in the world couldn't save him if it had no way of being properly dispersed, and the symptoms of this shock were already well on their way of showing. Clammy skin, a rapid heart rate yet weak pulse, shallow breathing, and a loss of consciousness, which was extremely disadvantageous when the patient couldn't communicate his pain. Regardless of these worries though, she tied a temporary tourniquet around his thigh again so she could perform quickly without obstructive bloodflow, and made swift work of the few pieces of metal embedded in his muscle and thankfully not fused with his healed artery and veins so far.

Using blood on the poor man before digging them out was a risky move, but she was able to tell by the red already staining his skin where the flesh had been torn, and by the thin red spots where the flesh was still healing on a level unseen to the human eye. It wasn't an exact science, but it was sadly the only way of knowing so far, and luckily most of his stomach seemed untouched save for a large part of his left side. Now doubt though the future would head many more procedures as he would become aware of any foreign pellets she would inevitably missed,  but she hoped it would impede his ability to hunt. A hunter who could no longer hunt typically changed into a rather inactive person, as would happen to most if their drive in life had suddenly vanished.

Amélie remained anyways despite her statement, watching curiously as Eileen quickly donned a concentrative mindset, pulling bits of silver with from the flesh one by one with a knife in one hand and a long pair a shears in the other. Her steady hand almost convinced her that perhaps hunting was not her first profession, but she kept quiet, leaving her questions for a later time. Many minutes of this focused quiet passed before someone suddenly walked in, and she watched as an older man she placed as the doctor ambled past her with no sense of urgency and set a brown leather bag down.

"This must be the Hunter I've been getting pestered about," He declared with a surprisingly uninterested glance at the injured man and the person working over him, "I take it you're the one who administered the blood."

"The man was at death's door, there was little to be done of it," She replied distantly and let a piece fall into the tray, a faint clink accentuating her words, "He's riddled with bullets."

"I see..." He spoke thoughtfully as he came to stand over him and began to examine him, checking his eyes and feeling for a pulse. It didn't take an expert on human expression to see he seemed almost indifferent towards the situation. "Perhaps it would have been kinder to let him be."

Eileen was in the process of turning towards the tray again with another flattened bullet before the tool in her hand hovered to a stop midair.

"Elaborate on that, if you would be so kind."

He began to roll up her sleeves with a scowl. "As I keep finding myself damned to repeat, I am a doctor of the people, _not_ hunters. You lot do nothing but get torn to shreds and when your not doing that your either killing each other or filling beds. But if you insist on persuading me to work on a dead man-"

A fist slammed down onto the table and Amélie raised a brow when she momentarily lost her composure.

" _Get. Out_." A growled demand was made and the doctor's eyes widened at the sudden aggression. "I will not have a man's life in your hands if ya think him dead already."

His eyes quickly narrowed and something akin to a contemptuous smile formed on his face.

"As you wish," He replied with curt politeness, and Amélie turned as he left the room to avoid his shoulder hitting her own. He left briskly with a mutter, taking his prejudices with him.

The Crow quickly resumed her task, but the muteness told Amélie she was probably still seething. After a few more moments of silence she finally voiced her thoughts.

"You hunters risk too much to deserve that kind of treatment.  _That_ , was no doctor." 

"Seemed like your pretty basic doctor to me." Amélie muttered and turned to lean against the door again. 

"Ya must have been met with some pretty poor doctors then."

"You could say that," Her words trailed off bleakly and the urge to depart was growing stronger with each passing second," You're probably the most reasonable one I've met thus far."

She chuckled briefly and shook her head, pulling yet another mushroomed shape of metal out of the man's lower arm. "I am far from a professional. But, ya learn a few things after years of being surrounded by death. Mostly how to prevent it, if it can be done."

Amélie hummed a weak response, finding her reasoning understandable. A longing look towards the outside hall's end finally drove her to speak again.

"I think... I may take my leave."

Eileen nodded, unsure whether she meant leaving for good or merely for the moment. She didn't ask her to clarify, seeing as there wasn't much reason for them to continue their partnership anyways. She answered the statement vaguely though, making her plans known in case the Hunter decided to stick around a while longer. "Go. Clear your head. I'll be finishing up soon."

She lingered, feeling something more deserved to be said. Ultimately though she found nothing truly meaningful and pushed off the wall again and turned away from the room. 

It didnt take long for her to find her way back, and the Beast Hunter made an effort to her keep head low when she saw the duo Gascoigne and Henryk mingling just across the exit, their colorful diverse appearances making them stand out against the Powder Kegs who mostly wore similar attire and regularly sported the same weapons. The two were sitting around a small round table with a blonde haired woman who appeared very proper in dress and posture, and there was a single bottle of crimson blood situated in front of the bearded man in black. She also recognized the dog which belonged to Tommy, standing with it's upper body laying across the taciturn Hunter's lap and seeming content to be in his presence.

Her efforts were in vain though when the Minister recognized her the moment she passed by, and she came to a stop with a hidden sour expression when he called her name jovially, before quickly evening her features and turning with a weak smile.

“Ah, you two again…” She spoke as her eyes flickered over the three people. “Funny, twice in one night it seems.”

“It’s a small city, supposedly.” Gascoigne claimed with a newfound grin and his gaze shifted to the woman smiling pleasantly in her seat now, something she hadn't been doing a few seconds earlier. “You’ve met Henryk already, and this here is my ever delightful sister in law, Olivia.”

Amélie didn’t see why he felt the need to introduce them since she wasn’t planning on carrying out this greeting much longer, but she reluctantly took the woman's hand anyways when she held it out accordingly. She noticed the jewel encrusted bracelet that moved on her wrist as she did and remembered it belonging to the woman they were searching for earlier.

Shame. It was such a pretty thing too.

“Believe me, the relation isn’t by choice.” She stated with a smile that seemed almost out of spite, and the forced benevolence gave Amélie a feeling that the two didn’t exactly get along. “My sister saw fit to marry a Hunter instead of becoming a scholar, and now here we are, surrounded by beasts and death, and I’m graced with none other than his company,” She added satirically with a shrug of her shoulder, “Life never fails to astonish.”

Amélie didn't really see how the two things were relevant, or how a simple marriage could have possibly led to a deadly outbreak that would leave her life in shambles, but she nodded slowly as the woman rambled anyhow.

“I see. Well... I’m sure she’s happy with her decision.” She replied unsurely, knowing actually nothing of the wife she spoke of, but finding it appropriate speak well of her.

There were worse things in life than marrying a Hunter after all.

“What she fails to mention is that Viola still carried on with her desire to become a mentor, regardless...” The Minister countered with a noticeably faltering smile, and the soft sigh from the quiet Hunter in yellow didn’t escape her ears as the two saw fit to provoke each other all over again.

“Of _children._ ” Olivia clarified with scoff. “She might as well have become a babysitter.”

“That hardly-”

“Perhaps,” Henryk suddenly spoke up. “We shouldn’t burden Miss Barton with our disagreements."

“So you do agree with him?” The woman moved her gaze on him expectantly, and it suddenly sounded as if an an old argument was resurfacing.

“I never said-”

“Of course he agrees with me,” Gascoigne interrupted with a bit of offense in his voice, and Amélie wondered if they would notice if she backed away. The door wasn't far behind her. The thought was certainly tempting. “What would you say of it Henryk?”

The man gave him a flat look and his eyes moved pointedly to the Beast Hunter still standing uncomfortably and seemed to be figuring whether to leave or not, and the Minister quickly took the hint.

“Bah, well, there’s no need for bad blood.” He backed off quite graciously and looked back to Amélie. “So tell me, how fares the lad? Seemed to be in quite a shape when he came through here.”

“Better than when he arrived. As for if he will live, I’m unsure.”

He made a small "ah" sound, seeming a bit saddened by this as his slightly gaze lowered.

“I heard it he almost bled to death on the way in,” Henryk spoke quietly as the talk took a more dreary turn, “Seems a good stroke of luck Eileen was around when they appeared.”

Gascoigne nodded, agreeing with the point. He wondered briefly if they should drop in to check on their good friend, but wasn't fond of possibly distracting her from an important task. “Aye, she is far more skilled than your average hunter, that’s sure. Always an endless array of things to go wrong in the field,” The Minister concurred and suddenly chuckled, finding something very amusing. “Why once she had to pull a spear from my-”

His partner jabbed him suddenly with his elbow, and his recount quickly died off.

"Ah yes, well," He carried on unbothered and his smile returned as he lifted the bottle in a subtle cheers gesture. "When things go wrong she'll be close, and thankfully she is quite nifty in a crisis."

Amélie pushed her hands into her pockets, growing restless with the conversation. “Yes, I suppose she is."

He took a drink from the glass before looking back up at her and lowering the bottle slightly with a wry grin. "Rather charming as well, once you get to know her." 

Henryk's gaze snapped up from the dog he was petting when his partner said this, and he narrowed his eyes when he sensed what he was doing.

“I hope we aren’t keeping you from anything, Hunter,” He offered suddenly and Amélie quickly saw her opportunity.

“Actually I was about to leave.” She replied quickly and began to turn away. “Good luck with your hunt, Minister.”

Gascoigne raised the bottle into the air with a coy grin again, nodding once. “Likewise.”

The moment she walked out the door Henryk shot him a glare out from the corner of his eye, muttering under his breath, “I thought it was agreed you wouldn’t try that.”

“Try what?” He defended and leaned back in his chair with a innocent smile, the wood creaking under his size. “Am I not allowed to speak politely of an old friend?"

“If you’re trying to pull your side of the bet, then it hardly-”

“What are you two babbling about?”

The two fell quiet when she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and the taller man merely laughed.

“Anyhow,” Gascoigne changed the topic suddenly when he remembered their previous conversation, “Where were we? Ah yes, Viola.”

The older woman shook her head with a look of disapproval as she briefly regarded the door the Hunter had walked out of. "I suppose it could have been worse. She might have become a  _Hunter_ if things were a different. Could you imagine." She scoffed. "Hardly a proper profession for a-"

"Now, wait just one second-..." Gascoigne suddenly set the bottle down before she could finish her sentiment, and Henryk found himself staring distantly down at the friendly dog as the Minister began to dive straight back in arguing with the woman, inevitably causing another hour of bickering to pass the time if the past had proved anything.

The night air met Amélie in an oddly warm way as a breeze carried the warmth of a fire in her direction when she set out once again. Her sense of freedom was quickly squashed though when yet again a voice regarded her.

"Ah. Miss Barton."

She had barely even crossed the path that cut through the grass lot before someone called out to her and she came to a stop with a sigh and waited for Pete to finish his words. It had barely been two hours since her arrival and many people already knew her by name, and atop that seemed intent on bothering her.

He was sitting around a firepit with a few other hunters, one of them being Elizabeth, and they all seemed busy talking amongst themselves in a murmur of words as they observed the papers and binders around them, their weapons lying idly at their sides and their pistols clipped to their belts. Elizabeth suddenly got to her feet and walked the opposite way in a busy manner with what looked to be maps of the lower canals held under her arm, but not without flashing her a friendly grin for a brief moment, a clear message that she hadn't forgotten her yet. 

She watched with a dull feeling as she left, finding it impossible to even get a word in with her.

"How is Charlie?" Pete finally stated his question after a busied silence, and she looked back to him blankly as he continued to focus on the work before him, not knowing of anyone by the name.

"Who...?"

"The man shot."

Her mouth fell open in a slight "oh" shape before she quickly answered. "Alive for now, it seems. You might want to start searching out a better doctor though."

A scowl formed on his face and he nodded his head knowingly, looking back down to his papers as he began to write. "Yes, well for the moment he happens to be the most skilled among us, which isn't saying much. Our last doctor, who was a Hunter as well sadly, fell victim to the scourge. This one holds rather distasteful opinions, but that isn't too uncommon these days," He spoke distractedly with a careless wave of his hand and she noticed his friendly disposition had clearly donned a more professional since they'd last met. "The Church informed us they would send their own shortly, and until then we've been forced to rely on blood to fix all of our problems. And as it turns out, sometimes there is more to it that merely jamming a needle into oneself... But I'm glad to hear he lives for now. I must say, that Hunter continues to surprise. Despite our tense meeting, she has proven resourceful."

She frowned when he said this for one of two reasons. 

People continued to assume they were partners, and not only that, they continued to act shocked by any act the Crow pulled off. She wondered briefly if she too had been so subjective when they first met. Sure her appearance was stranger than most, but it wasn't as if hunters dressed very accordingly anyways.

She once, very briefly, met a Hunter who insisted on hunting the beasts without a shirt or coat. That was an odd encounter. He proved to be quite good at the trade though, if not a bit intimidating.

No, there were much odder people out there, but Amélie soon got the feeling that perhaps it was being an outsider that made people wary of her, and not so much the mask.

"We aren't partners," She corrected him, "And perhaps she only surprises, because people continue to doubt."

The pen stopped moving for a moment and he raised a brow and nodded slightly, perhaps finding some truth in her words.

"Regardless, we welcome any help that can be spared. I'm afraid with matters becoming so hectic, it has become difficult to offer proper attention in a timely fashion to those in need, even when they are our own. Between slaying the beasts, watching over the ill, and keeping the townsfolk safe and sane, we're pulling our hair out trying to keep order."

She suddenly sensed a way out in his words. The militaristic air was becoming too smothering, and the last thing she wanted was falling under the routine of answering to some sort of jurisdiction.

"Speaking of the beasts," She announced. "I was just about to head out."

This provoked his interest and he looked up again at her warily.

"You aren't leaving are you?'

His question wasn't as accusational as she found it to be, but if anything it only strengthened her desire to set out on her own. The thought of leaving without informing Elizabeth of her father's state though forced her answer.

"No, not yet. I only wish to clear my head."

He nodded once again and motioned his pen towards the iron gates where a few other hunters were standing. "Feel free to join one of our patrols. They should be setting out any minute now, and they typically stay in the area. I imagine they'll be back within the hour. When you return I may have an interesting offer for you, granted our discussions yield action."

The offer he spoke of did not sound appealing at all and she hoped he had no intention of trying to recruit her. Nevertheless she bid him a short goodbye, and set off to join this group, eager for the coming distraction.

Pete returned to his muttered talks and collaborations, the brief encounter with the stranger now out of his mind.

Unlike other key areas of town, this refuge still possessed enough medicine to keep the ailing comfortable, but troubling reports were quickly coming in over the previous month of other company's not faring as well as them. The final nail in the coffin was when the quick messenger's that navigated the beast ridden city suddenly stopped arriving, and they continued to be cut off from the nearest safe house east of them while they remained dark, limiting their receiving of knowledge drastically. With this group disturbingly quiet now, a trek was still in order to scope out the issue, but the first squad had already failed, and he wasn't holding much hope for the second. That was unless they could mobilize a skilled group to get the job done properly. Luckily he already had some candidates in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoosh, lots of new characters. If you can't tell already, I enjoy adding new personalites. Doesn't help that most of Bloodborne's characters are deeeead...  
> But don't worry. I don't make characters that don't serve some sort of purpose.  
> Oh, and in case you were wondering, the beast hunters name is pronounced, "Ah-muh-lee." Had someone ask me that the other day, and it never quite occurred to me that perhaps there were some who weren't sure.  
> I thought it would be neat to incorperate a bit of Eileen's design into her skills, giving her some medical know how considering her design seems heavily influenced by plague doctors. Now whether plague doctors can be considered actual doctors and not just superstitious body gatherers, well, let's just assume I've given Eileen a bit more credit. Sure she might feed corpses to crows, but who's to say she can't stitch a wound or dig out a bullet? Especially with being an ex-Dreamer and all, seems a thing you ought to know how to do... Anyhow, just made sense she would have some training in that area, be it by whoever taught her to hunt, or by her own accord.


	23. Regrouping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. I HAVE TIME. The end of the semester forced me to go on a hiatus. Only thing is, I didn't announce... that I would be doing that... Yeah. I'll be posting a few today though.

The patrol yielded little prey, which was supposedly a good thing in the eyes of the other hunters. The short rounds did provide Amélie with the discovery of another lamp however, this one conveniently close to where the Hunters were stationed for the moment. The Dream had an odd way of guiding hunters, providing lamps where it clearly wanted them to go. The same could be said for places that held little to no prey and in her experience there wasn't much point in staying in an area long where no lamps appeared in.

Not many of the buildings windows were lit in the night, something no doubt discouraged by whoever managed the people in these hours, but there were dim glows of candlelight behind a few of the fogged glass windows, causing her thoughts to stray to the citizens being guarded behind them. There were always unfortunate casualties when a hunt lingered too long, but never had she witnessed hunters actively protecting townsfolk on a scale such as this. She wondered what it was like for them- men, women, children- to huddle in their rooms and fear what lurked in the dark. And in the case of the separated ailing folk, to fear what could very well rest within their own blood. No doubt they now put a fair amount of trust in the Church to protect them and their loved ones and the sudden thought of herself being one of the hunters they were now forced to rely on made her want nothing more than walk back to her lamp and go elsewhere, if only for a fleeting moment.

Long before she had approached the gates she noticed a small group of Hunters talking just near the exit and as she drew closer her walk slowed, their conversation picking up after a thoughtful pause when one looked up at her.

"Is this the new arrival you spoke of?" The commander observed when she noticed the Hunter's approach, and Amélie's gaze moved to Elizabeth when she heard herself being the topic of conversation. The calm look on her face though and brief gesture to come forward told her there wasn't much to be concerned about. "There's so many damn hunters turning up I can barely keep track anymore..." She added with a weary mutter.

"Yes, she along with the other were the ones who helped. I say she's a good choice." Pete suggested, and Amélie got the uneasy feeling she was suddenly being enlisted for something.

"You a Dreamer, Hunter?" Sam turned to her skeptically as she addressed her, and Amélie felt a bit apprehensive under the stern gaze of the rather strapping woman.

"Yes..." She spoke dubiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Good. We can always use more of you oddities." She stated without acknowledging her question at all and turned her attention back to Pete. "Track down the other one as well. If she is what you say she is, then I want her with this lot. The last thing we should be worrying about is hunters coming after our own."

"What's going on?" Amélie uttered quietly to Elizabeth as they spoke, who quietly shushed her. As if being ignored wasn't irritating enough.

"She's still inside, probably in the infirmary. I'd start there." He offered, and the woman nodded curtly.

"Lead the way. I'd like a word with her."

She watched peculiarly as the two walked away from them, leaving only Elizabeth and the Hunter who had tried to steal her watch by her side. A light nudge on her arm pulled her gaze and she turned to Elizabeth with the curious look of a raised brow.

"We're heading back out soon."

"I got that impression." She muttered, glancing over to the Hunter beside her when she felt his eyes on her and noting the suddenly neighborly grin on his face. 

The glance did not escape Elizabeth's eyes either and she figured it was as good a time as ever to introduce the two, hopefully with a bit more cordiality this time around. She gave an elegant wave of the hand as she referred to him with a cheery smile. "This here's Tom. You may remember him as the one who tried to lift your watch."

"Vividly." She spoke flatly as she took the hand he had held out happily, and he shook it favorably with a handsome grin. She also took notice of the charred hunters attire he wore, making it quite obvious that he was a member of the Powder Kegs as well. The Stake Driver in his right hand also made that apparent. Not to mention the presumptuous attitude.

"I would have refrained from doing so, had I known we would be spending so much time together."

"Believe me," She replied, returning his warm smile as genuinely as possible, "We won't be."

"Ouch," He hissed satirically and looked back at Elizabeth, his grin as unwavering as ever, "Bark and bite."

Elizabeth gave his shoulder a shove and he had a short laugh as she pushed him back towards the housing, the dark haired Hunter quickly growing restless with the antics. "Tell Pete to get his ass out here. I want to know if he's coming with us. And tell him to bring the prototype. I think it's about time we put it to good use."

"Alright, alright," He complied amicably, offering one last farewell before he left with a small bow. "A pleasure, Amélie."

The blonde took notice of the downward glance she cast when he turned and trotted off, and she waited until he was a distance to speak.

"So." She chided lowly. "Didn't think rascals were your type."

"What can I say. Keeps my bed warm and the beasts off my back." She turned her head and threw her a slight smile. "What more could a girl ask for."

"What more." Amélie repeated listlessly.

Despite the mild annoyance he seemed to easily stirred within her, that vaguely familiar smile the Powder Keg wore - a smile that seemed to suggest perhaps subtle adoration as she turned her head back to watch him leave- quelled Amélie's initial irritation and even compelled her to take a closer look at the person she hadn't seen in many years.

Her black hair was still pinned up in her signature bun, a hairstyle far from neatly managed, and she still wore the same white refined dress shirt beneath a corset, the attire topped off rather traditionally by a typical grey hunters coat. The thin blue ribbon tied loosely above a green broach around the collar of her shirt was still there as well, something she never seemed to tie quite correctly, and a Boom Hammer rested over her shoulder idly, a weapon she tended to twist and turn absentmindedly when in thought. The furnace from the head of the hammer always made her neck smell of smoke, and Amélie had even grown fond of the scent over time. 

She hardly looked any different than the last time she had seen her, which was years back by now surely.

"You've hardly changed." Amélie offered in a softer tone, her eyes moving forward again.

"Perks of being a Dreamer I suppose, since I was just about to same the same about you. A saw cleaver, huh? What ever happened to the cane?"

"I decided to go in a different direction."

"Huh. Could of swore that was the one for you."

"..."

"...That was almost four years ago."

Elizabeth's green eyes flickered over to her and for a moment her ever confident expression wavered.

"Oh." She uttered in a humbler voice.

Amélie merely offered a brief nod and she watched as a couple of hunters emerged from an alley way across the street from behind them, one taking notice of Elizabeth and immediately making a beeline for her while the other continued on with his business. She had much more to say to her, but it was difficult to engage in a serious conversation with so many hunters peeking over everyone's shoulders every three seconds. Her eyes also fell on another approaching group when she turned back with a soft sigh through her nose, and Amélie recognized them immediately to be Eileen and the two Church hunters she had been introduced to, accompanied by a few other Powder Kegs, some she recognized and some not, all led by their new Commander. It seemed things were beginning to pick up, and she found it relieving almost to perhaps have something to do. She was about to make this observation known when Elizabeth suddenly moved partly in front of her, her quickly growing face alarmed.

"There's a Church Hunter here?" She whispered harshly, the group having yet to notice them as they walked towards the gates and talked among themselves. "They never join us on the hunts!"

"Relax," Amélie quickly uttered when she suddenly grew anxious, determined to calm her mind before someone took notice of her alarm, "We were introduced earlier, and I've talked to him even past that. He doesn't seem to suspect."

She turned her head to look at her, her face etched with distrust as she gave her a clear disbelieving look.

"And I think the Dream masks the scent more than anything," She added to further convince her, "He's only here for the hunt, I imagine. Nothing else."

The tense hand gripping her weapon finally relaxed, along with her posture and she nodded slowly as she moved a gloved hand into her coat pocket. She stared for few moments longer to ponder this new information and it didn't take long for her to notice an unfamiliar attire.

"...So. Who's the freak?"

Amélie followed her pointed nod calmly until she realized who it was she was referring to, and her brow immediately furrowed and she sharply pushed an elbow into her arm. "That _freak,_ is the reason I was able to get here in the first place, so try not to be rude for once."

"Alright, alright," She uttered defensively, a skeptical pause in her words before she wrote off the sore reaction. "It was merely a question."

Amélie folded her arms, lowering her voice as they drew nearer. "She's a Hunter of Hunters. Takes out the ones who go mad."

"Hm. Never heard of her kind before."

She hummed in agreement. "Neither had I. I assume there's a reason for that."

The Hunter who had approached from the alley reached them first, and the man seemed very delighted by Elizabeth's return if the amicable greeting said anything. "I see our valiant survey group has finally returned." His strangely familiar voice suddenly quipped and he clapped a hand on her shoulder merrily.

His eyes wandered over to Amélie and the friendly expression he wore fell ever so slightly when he recognized her as the partner of the Crow Hunter. It took Amélie a few seconds longer to place his face as the one who had tried to prevent the previous commanders untimely death after his descent into madness. A poor decision in all honesty, one that left him fortunately with only a bloodied nose and perhaps a bit of hurt pride. She said nothing though, leaving the greeting to Elizabeth as she did not know the man.

"For now." She replied with a slight frown. "But if that means anything, I doubt we'll be here for much longer." She added, tilting her chin up in the direction of the nearing group.

"I see..." He uttered, suddenly seeming less enthusiastic when his eyes took notice of the hunters, seeing most of them weren't even true Powder Kegs. Something that didn't sit well with him.

The hunters finally came close enough to properly greet them and a grin quickly formed on Elizabeth's face when she was pleased to see Pete among them. It had been awhile since he'd joined her and Tommy on an assignment, and she was looking forward to a hunt just like old times. Having Amélie there as well was just the icing on the cake.

"Bizarre lot we have here." She mused to Pete as the Hunters stopped on the other side of the bars, her eyes scanning over the odd looking bunch of individuals while the gates were slowly opened, the rusted metal creaking in a disagreeable way, "I'm guessing this is our new survey group?"

"For the time being," Pete replied with a nod. "Everyone here as agreed to assist. Except..." His eyes wandered to Amélie.

"She's coming too." Elizabeth spoke on her behalf, and Amélie found herself not minding it as much as she thought she would. It seemed they were all heading in the same direction anyhow.

"Good," The Commander announced in a tone that told everyone she was about to give orders and all eyes turned on her. "All we need you hunters to do is make contact with our eastern post. Any other priorities are left to your judgment. Find out how they are on medicine and supplies so we can let the Church know what we need. I wish I could accompany you all this time around, but I trust you'll be capable of carrying out your orders. Once you get going, Pete will fill you in on what more they are. And keep this one close," She nodded briefly over to Eileen. "I hear she'll keep further distractions off the table."

Mason, who remained quiet up until now while listening curiously to the proposal immediately found this not to his liking.

"You honestly aren't going to trust this-"

"Hold your tongue, Hunter. You know what Edmund warned of us of." Sam turned her attention on him sharply, cutting off his quarrel with little patience and well aware of his stance by now, not to mention his actions. "We don't detain those who go after their own. He would not have wanted that."

"Perhaps ya should worry less about my hunt, and more about the beasts," Eileen disputed as well, not one to sit idly by while he attempted slander. "Lord knows it would do some good."

"Just what are you implying?"

" _Mason."_ The Commander warned sternly, not that Eileen cared much for stepping down. The man somehow possessed a keen way of getting under her skin, something not many had the gift of doing.

"I am implying that-"

Her statement concerning the overall effectiveness of the Powder Keg's bombastic hunt fell flat when Gascoigne suddenly tossed an arm around her shoulder and tapped the point of her mask, making her move her head back sharply in suprise before she glared up at him in annoyance when he hovered over her side.

"What my corvid companion here is trying to say,"

"I don't need ya to mince my words for me Gascoigne-"

"Is that your fellow compatriots can endure the hunt much more easily, _without_ the worry of the occasional killer at your back. Now, we are all working towards the same goal here after all, I see no reason for Hunters to clash. Wouldn't you agree?"

The Ministers friendly counter and disarming smile all but diffused the man's aggression, but he continued sharing an absurdly long and tense gaze with the Crow, one which she held steadily. She chose not to voice her aggravation though now, reluctantly obliging to the Ministers efforts for peace. Gascoigne was right of course. No good came with the argument. And perhaps it was silly all together to waste her words on it.

"Perhaps we should move on from this disagreement and press on?" Another hunter's gruff voice suggested, and Amélie's eyes flickered over to the until recently silent hunter who wore an ashen grey attire and held a Stake Driver much like the others. "I'm assuming we're ready."

"Ready as we'll ever be." Pete agreed and nodded to Tommy.

The Hunter beamed happily when he gave the okay and immediately raised his finger to his lips. A shrill whistle cut the air and not two seconds later the hound from earlier could immediately be seen sprinting across the grass of the property, eager to respond to the call of its master. Amélie herself had never shared the hunt with a dog before and thought perhaps it might be an interesting experience. Hopefully it was trained well, which she didn't have much hope for in all honesty considering it's owner. The group quickly joined Amélie and Elizabeth on the gate's other side, and it was no surprise that Eileen and the other two hunters approached her first. She also noticed the ill-tempered man turn and leave without another word, and she was grateful there would be no worry of further tension in their new group. It seemed diverse enough as it was. Four Powder Kegs, two Church Hunters, two outsiders, one of which being an assassin, and a dog no less.

The Powder Kegs truly were an odd bunch.

"And here I thought these two were going to be "watching over their kin," Amélie mocked her previously spoken words with a faint smirk as the group began to set out, meeting the two hunters again sooner than she had thought. The Minister certainly seemed happy about the development, if the grin on his face proved anything. The other made it hard to read his expression, since his yellowed attire hid most of his face, but he didn't appear displeased with the development. Eileen quickly fell in step alongside her while the other two walked on ahead in front of them, following after the leading Powder Kegs who were exchanging friendly words now that the business part of their greeting had past.

"Unfortunately, as of now that involves heading out. The beasts are too many, and Hunters have a job to do." Eileen replied smoothly. It seemed at this point Viola might be waiting awhile for her husbands return and somehow she felt partly to blame for this. Perhaps it might have been best not to announce her travels before setting out, but, keeping a hunter from a hunt was hardly reasonable either, especially one so pressing.

"It's probably for the best." Henryk disclosed in a dry tone, speaking up for the first time since their group had formed. "He was beginning to attract a crowd."

The Ministers face soured when he said this and he nodded almost dejectedly. "I'll admit, it was becoming a might uncomfortable. Olivia was no help of course, finding it suitable to turn in early. I almost suspect I was even set up at one point."

Eileen chuckled. She knew perfectly well what they were implying. She had seen it before, in the faces of other Hunters, or bashful female members of the Church who were otherwise sworn to their worship, and perhaps even in a few men, though they were typically more subtle about their flustered interest in the peculiarly tall man with an almost dashing passion for the hunt. Yes, he certainly drew attention wherever he went and at times it was of the less desired kind.

And no doubt there were plenty of bored citizens locked away in the Powder Kegs alleged safe house with nothing to do but gawk.

"Oh, how the woman swoon. One might call this karma, perhaps?" She remarked lightly and shook her head as she heckled, finding a fitting moment to joke as the ones leading them seemed busy murmuring amongst themselves. "If it weren't for Henryk, I doubt you would even be aware of their courting."

Henryk nodded agreeably. Sadly this was very true. As robust as the Minister was, he was usually uninterested at best and, more often than not, oblivious at worst. A consequence of spending most of his adolescence focused on ministerial studies and duties. A smiled pulled at the taciturn hunters face though as he suddenly recalled a memory. "Remember when he once fell into an energetic conversation about the importance of heavy weapon combat?"

Eileen snickered, remembering the encounter well. "I've never seen a woman lose interest so fast."

The two laughed among themselves again, and Amélie found herself smirking as well at the conversation taking place. It was interesting to see the Crow in this light. The two hunters seemed to lessen her serious demeanor, and even bring out some charm in her words. It was then her concerns about the Minister diminished considerably. It wasn't as if every member of the Church could be a blind worshiper surely, and the man himself seemed to be just as much as an outsider as herself, his unique accent certainly not placing him as a Yharnam born citizen. Strangely enough, despite the city's sour sentiment towards foreigners the Church preferred to rely on many of them to do their dirty work. There seemed to be no clear preference when it came to the Church- as long as those who served were not severely ailing or Vileblood- but still she couldn't help but wonder how many of those not born under the eyes of the Church were truly respected in their professions.

Gascoigne swung his axe into the air with a newfound grin now and let in fall onto his shoulder. The teasing was far from irritating and he in fact enjoyed being the butt of the joke. It had been a long time since he had shared the hunt with friends, and even longer since the three of them had a proper conversation, the Crow Hunter being increasingly distant over the years for reasons he could only assume was due to the rising numbers of the job. "Well, now that that awkwardness has passed, there is only the hunt to think of now."

He glanced at Pete with a raised brow when he felt his stare, who had seemed to be regarding him with interest up until their eyes met and the Minister wondered briefly if perhaps he was curious about why they had appeared in the first place. "In all honesty, we were never given orders to pass into this part of the city, which in itself is quite appalling given the state of things. But in hindsight, it is far worth any repercussion if it means slaying the beasts at your sides."

"I've yet to ask just how it is ya two managed to get here in the first place..." Eileen alluded suspiciously and the group turned into a gated off alley and waited as Pete pulled a ring of keys from his belt and began to unlock the padlock. "Not to mention how ya did it so fast."

"Oh, it was easy," He replied with a faint shrug, "We bribed the guards."

Both Amélie and Eileen's heads snapped up after he said this, and their eyes immediately turned on each other.

"Why didn't we try that?"

Eileen frowned. That would have been a much preferred alternative, had it seemed likely. "I assumed they would be uncooperative."

"Wait," Henryk questioned curiously. "How did you two get through then?"

"We stowed away in coffins."

Gascoigne's brow rose when Eileen declared this offhandedly and he looked down at Henryk in an almost deflated way as they passed through the opened gate. "Why didn't we try that?"

"I can't imagine you would have fit in one even if we had."

He nodded. "Fair point."

"As oddly compelling as this conversation is," the Hunter in the ashen gray attire spoke up. "I find myself more intrigued with where we're headed to first."

"I was just about to say the same thing," Elizabeth agreed with the sentiment suddenly, being the last Hunter passed through. She quickly shut it and secured it again, finding it to be no surprise to her that Djura was keen to know where they were going. He had been more than willing to offer assistance when they'd come across him out in the more beast plagued parts of the city, going as far as to become member so to speak of their group for quite some time now, as long as it meant helping the unfortunate Yharnamite's caught in the crossfire of claws and bullets. "I'm assuming you know where we're going Pete?" She prodded almost teasingly to the Hunter that everyone seemed to be following and gave him a light poke at his back when she caught up once more.

"Well, there is another location we have orders to secure, but only if this doesn't set us back too far. Conveniently though, it's along the way, so we can decide among ourselves whether it's worth the time of day. If not, no doubt they'll send a squad out in the future."

"Aw, Liz would you look at him." Tommy suddenly gushed and threw and arm over his shoulder and pulled their heads close, making the Hunter in the lead scowl when he diverted the discussion. "One month and he already has the qualities of a fearless leader. And only at the expense of his absence. Oh, how I've _missed_ our talks."

" _As I was saying,_ " He continued dully, ignoring his friend's pestering and carrying on, "It hasn't escaped our notice that the Gatling gun placed atop the clock tower east of here has stopped firing at the beasts for unknown reasons. Djura has already tried to scout the area once, having a lamp not far from it's location, but as he has said..."

"...I couldn't get close enough to tell properly, but it seemed abandoned," The ashen greyed Hunter quickly informed them when Pete left the air open for him to speak, "The beasts made it impossible to approach it on my own though. They're quite uncontained in that area. A crowd has begun to gather, and a rather bloodthirsty one." 

"It's been speculated that the beasts somehow managed to get to the hunters stationed up there, but there _have_ been a few reports of sightings in the area of Powder Keg presence, so take that with a grain of salt," The Powder Keg Hunter continued, "Whatever the case, there is certainly something... Odd, about that particular part of town. Many of our units are cut off from each other, and are acting on their own accord, so getting information is difficult in this stage of the hunt as you can imagine."

"I don't like the sound of that." Elizabeth declared, her face donning a more serious expression as he explained the situation, and the time for joking quickly past. "Granted there's no one there of course, even if we do get a man up there it would take us even longer to get to the refuge, if it means having to cut through beasts to do it. And at this point we don't know what state they're in."

"I agree," Djura concurred almost immediately, having the exact same thoughts, "Securing that tower sounds to me like a waste of time at this point. We shouldn't forget that there are lives on the line."

"Lives that may be spared if this weapon proves to be an important asset." Gascoigne offered his opinion, seeing the situation in a much different light than him. A screech in the far distance caused him to stall, but he quickly carried on after only a wary pause, the others listening much more intently to their surrounding suddenly as well. "And if the area hasn't been managed, we may have to cut through the beasts anyhow."

"Perhaps we could split into two groups?" Henryk soon sided along with his partner's thinking. "Four of us can check on the lookout, and the other four can press ahead."

"If we're splitting up, I choose the group that is heading for the gun." Tommy rose his voice as he held up a finger, almost as if he were claiming some sort of stake. "Been hoping to get a closer look at that beauty."

The Crow Hunter didn't feel much need to throw her say into the mix until this idea began gaining popularity. 

"I'm not so sure about this strategy," She deliberated, "There's greater strength in numbers, and that's not even taking into account any troublesome deaths that may occur once we come into the lesser patrolled part of town."

There were a few dismal hums of agreement now, and Djura frowned, finding the furthering debate to be rather pointless. "So we are back where we started then." He mentioned.

"Like I said," Pete denoted, "We have options. But it's no coincidence that the beasts have been massing into larger groups since we lost that tower. And what do you think Hunter?"

Amélie's head rose when she realized he was addressing her. Frankly, she hadn't given either side much thought, instead spending most of the past ten minutes absently studying the strange weapon Pete held at his side, a weapon that looked oddly like a Stake Driver but seemed to be designed for the use of launching projectiles. She assumes this must be the prototype Elizabeth had mentioned, since she had never seen one like it in her time in Yharnam. He also wore a pack slung over his shoulder that made dull metallic clunking sounds whenever he moved too harshly.

She gave the question a few seconds thought to consider their options, since apparently an opinion had been requested. Getting an upper hand on the beasts, or providing swifter aid seemed to be what their options boiled down to, although one could argue that the first option was means of accomplishing the latter in the grander scheme of things. It was hard to imagine in her mind though that their small group of eight hunters were going to be saving lives in the first place, as the Minister had so nobly put it. At it's root, the hunt was always a task of prevention, few rarely having a shining moment of glory to save the captivating fair maiden.

In truth, if a beast was already within a twenty foot radius of any common folk, chances were they were already torn to shreds.

Though, be that as it may, many hunters still found some sort of grandeur in their jobs. For herself, Beast hunting was not something she saw as a noble obligation anymore, though it had seemed that glamorous in the first few months. No, more accurately it was a way of life- how she lived, and how she kept her mind preoccupied. The results that came with the practice were hardly by intention. Some hunted for the thrill, some for the blood, and some for the safety of their families. Some even hunted for all of these things. But, as indifferent as she was, she was also beginning to see that there were clearly more important things to consider than exacting revenge on one drunk man, a man who was most likely beast by now, or even already slain for that matter. And if cooperating with a group of Powder Kegs meant hunting the beasts, there was nothing too wrong with gaining more echoes, as long as it didn't boil down to following orders. No, so far their is only a hunt, and she would continue to see it that way no matter what company she traveled with.

"It hardly matters what I think." She settled on after this brief moment of thought. It seemed wise to leave the decision making up to those who knew of the hunt here anyways. "But I agree we should stay together. At least until we make it to the next safe house. If the beasts are as plentiful as you say, it seems best to hunt together rather than apart."

"I suppose that leaves the choosing up to you, Pete," Elizabeth settled, her hammer turning upon her shoulder side to side for a moment, the rush of air making the glow in the head of the hammer burn brighter for just a moment, "Since no one can seem to come to agreement."

He considered this, contemplating all of their options and their preferred outcomes.

"Alright..." He began, taking care not to sound too unsure. "Considering the fact that we will have to pass by there anyways, we'll evaluate the situation as we come across it, and act from there."

The motion seemed logical enough without choosing a specific narrative, and even those who initially were against the idea of securing the tower couldn't find much issue with it.

"Wait..." Tommy contended almost vigilantly. "Was that some fancy bullshit way of saying, "we'll see when we get there?"

"Yes, Tom." He muttered. "That's exactly what that was. Now keep your voices down... This is the spot."

The Hunters who knew what he was implying immediately tensed and drew their weapons, while the others only skeptically glanced around the muggy streets.

"Are you going to elaborate on that?" Amélie finally spoke up when no one else did, her voice barely above a whisper.

"This is one of the areas we were attacked when we first set out a few days back." Elizabeth answered quietly, her eyes flickering about to deathly quiet windows and the front doors of homes, some closed and some open and abandoned, the darkness past the doorsteps strangely foreboding. Though the town here had the same appearance as the rest of Yharnam, Amélie began to feel like they were walking into another world the farther they strolled from the Powder Kegs controlled areas. One still standing, and one abandoned.

"There were two hunters, originally," Tommy further explained, and Eileen drew her blades as well, keeping her ears sharp. "Elizabeth managed to take down one before the second all but beheaded her." He grimaced at the memory, still nowhere near being comforted enough by the fact that she couldn't die. It was a difficult thing to watch, even when she would walk back merrily from her lamp anew and plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek. He'd never put much stock into the tales of Hunters who hailed from the Dream until he had met Pete, long before he had had the pleasure of knowing Elizabeth, but Pete had long since left the Dream now and never spoke of it often anyhow, even back when he had resided in it.

"That was an annoying walk back..." Elizabeth muttered when he said this.

Their wary stroll down the block heeded little danger, only silence. A couple of beasts emerged from hiding as they walked, one from a home and one from underneath a clawed and broken carriage, the horses attached nowhere to be seen but likely dead if the spilled blood and absent bodies proved anything. The beasts were handled quickly though and maybe even a little too easily. It was still odd to Amélie how many seemed to just be lurking behind every corner. Back in Central Yharnam it was extremely rare to find the twisted creatures among the heavier populace, even on the more heightened nights of the hunt. They typical dwelled farther from the Cathedral Ward, where more and more cases of "murders" and slaughters popped up with each passing week, each time drawing closer the the denser city. The townsfolk were as loyal as ever though and some even denied the beasts altogether, thinking them the tales of fearmongers and liars. These sentiments were quickly fading though, even she had seen proof of that in the years past since she had arrived in this city. 

The group coordinated well together, the Powder Keg members having silent signals to mark the coming of beasts, and who would engage them. The dog proved quite useful in alerting them of the more agile ones, saving them the fear of being taken by surprise when their senses overlooked the occasional creature. They made little noise as they glided through the streets but even when there was the occasional scream of a dying beast, no others seemed to leap out. Surely there were plenty more around, if the damage to the area told of anything, but the only explanation she could think of was that most decided to stay hidden. She could have even swore she saw one cower away at the end of an alley before passing the slim opening, though a quick back peddle showed the space was empty. That would be ridiculous of course. Beasts felt no fear. At least, not in the way humans could. Not that she had seen. Not that she believed.

They cleared the block without so much as a hiccup, and most of the Hunters were relieved they hadn't been forced to deal with one of their own.

"Perhaps," Pete offered. "A beast managed to-"

A bright explosion of light and sound at the groups side interrupted his conjecture about the absent threat and most of the Hunters shielded their eyes too late, the blinding flash assaulting their vision and leaving them disoriented in the billowing grey smoke that quickly began to rise and burn their senses. Both Pete and Eileen immediately grabbed their heads and gasped as pain exploded behind their skulls, their eyes far more sensitive than the other Hunters for alike reasons.

" _What the hell was that?!"_ Tommy shouted frantically, blindly grasping for his gun as the dark fuzzy splotches scattered across his vision swelled and pulsed, showing no sign of dispersing soon. The dog began to bark frantically beside them, but at what no one could see yet and Eileen felt panic when she heard guns being grasped.

"Watch who you draw on! We didn't set out only to kill our own." She warned the others in a sharp tone and took a few step backwards to distance herself from them as her blinded gaze darted from side to side cautiously. She'd learned many times in the past that the only thing more lethal than a confused beast was a confused hunter.

"There was no flashbang before, it must be someone n-" Elizabeth's strained voice died off into a series of hoarse coughs as the smoke rose and further thickened the air around them.

The rest began to cough as well, and even the Crow's mask didn't stop the foul mist from seeping into the air she breathed. The sound of quick footsteps approaching from behind prompted Gascoigne to whirl around and swing his axe with an angered growl, but the aggressor quickly ducked the blind attack and thrusted a Rifle Spear forward into the air, and the Minister grunted when it connected with the left side of his broad shoulder, the original intention being his neck but missing by luck. The tough material of his attire kept the weapon from slicing straight through to the bone but it didn't protect the skin beneath well enough, the warm blood dampening his coat telling him that the flesh had torn long before the pain did.

"They're over here!" He yelled out to the group with an swift upwards swing towards the faintly discernible figure in front of him, knocking the weapon into the air before it could further shred his shoulder. The weapon discharged into the sky barely a moment after it was diverted, the bullet missing it's target and soaring into the air with a departing whizzing sound. The ear-splitting blast alerted every beast within a mile and quickly urged the ones in hiding nearby to amble from their dark corners with sudden triggered aggression. The hound immediately took to the fight, scampering in a flash of fur towards the beast nearest to it's master and tackling it. There was a dull thud as the hairy bodies collided and the hound buried it's teeth into the flesh of the beast's twisted neck with a fierce snarl as the two creatures barreled into each other in a rage of bloodlust. It's claws scraped over the rocky ground furiously as it toppled it and forced it to the ground by it's throat and took to mauling the screeching human like brute. 

Despite the piercing pain in her head Eileen's vision took far less casualty than anyone else's, the light bandage she wore under her mask protecting her eyes from harsher light, and she quickly recovered, snapping her head up to find where the Ministers voice was coming from and seeking out the mark keenly.

The moment her eyes fell on the corrupted Hunter she engaged, ignoring the sounds of beasts approaching and leaving them up to the others in good faith they would take to their jobs quickly. She moved in fast and was the first to properly counter the wide slash of the weapon, her blade catching in a groove near the end of the spear in an attempt to allow her enough time to get in close. Gascoigne immediately moved back, knowing this was a dance Eileen was far more suited to cut into. The surrounding Hunters quickly became distracted with the beasts emerging from the smoke in a flurry of claws and snarls, most wearing torn shawls and fabric over there heads and brandishing yellowed and bloodied teeth, twisted and sharp. A strangled shriek and the sound of flesh tearing alerted everyone that Djura was the first the die, swarmed by three beasts and too far from anyone to assist in time. Elizabeth watched him go down into the smoke with a growled curse and swiped the head of her hammer across one of the ragged creature's legs, making it fall hard to the ground with a sickening sound of bone hitting concrete before slamming it down over it's head in a burst of flame. Chances were he had a lamp not far, but staying in the area long didn't seem wise.

A deformed arm of fur and claws swiped down over Eileen's back and just barely missed, it's jagged claws catching a few strips of her cape and tearing them away, and the hindrance forced her to avoid a second lunge, costing precious seconds in a fight too lethal to be distracted from. The mad Hunter, a woman who looked to be a previous Powder Keg member, immediately raised her spear and took a shot when she moved her attention and the bullet grazed her side and briefly knocked the wind out of her when it collided with a rib before it's angle was diverted by the sturdy bone. She staggered backwards a few steps to distance herself, growling as she quickly administered a vial and she hollered out to the surrounding hunters, keeping her eyes fixed on the fast approaching prey.

"Keep the beasts off my back!"

Gascoigne and Henryk immediately responded to the call for help, Henryk abandoning his bloody dance with a beast when the canine began to drag it off by it's leg with fine timing, and the Minister finished his off with a mighty lurch of his axe and a bloodied grin, a clear expression of zest on his face when blood sprayed into the air as his weapon embedded deep into the neck of a lurching creature. The two took on the task of pulling the beasts attention while Eileen kicked forward again with blades ready. The spears range made it difficult to get in close, which made the fight a mostly one sided one in terms of attacks, a consequence of close combat being mainly her forte.

Amélie wasn't sure of which directions the beasts were coming from at first but thankfully the smoke began to dispel quickly as a breeze picked up, and she only suffered a minor wound to her arm from a set of claws from leaping beast in the distraction. A few lethal swipes from her saw cut the clumsy beast down easily and she swept her eyes over the area for a moment as it went down, seeing the other Hunters engaged in their own battles. It had only taken about a minute for things to go sideways, a shocking turn of events that seemed to have come from nowhere and caught even the more skilled of them off guard. Her eyes shifted to Pete, who still seemed to be suffering the effects of blindness. Despite this though she noticed he managed a well aimed hit though and slammed the front his weapon into the stomach of a beast. A shrill hollow blast followed the action that sent the beast flying to the ground far from him. She briefly noticed the large chunk of metal that had been driven into it's torso, but her curiosity of the odd weapon faded when two other beasts closed in on his sides. She quickly pulled her saw from the flesh of the beast's chest at her feet and went to his aid, her eyes instinctively scanning the area for the Crow Hunters figure for a moment before she put her from her mind and went to work before another Hunter could be lost.

Eileen soon began to tire of the constant defensive distance she was forced to keep so she took a risky move when she saw the chance, narrowly avoiding a slash to her middle and moving in close enough to slice far into the bicep of the Hunter's prominent arm with a swift upwards stroke, cutting deep into the vessels and muscle and rendering the arm surely useless. Her other blade separated mid air during this attack, and she sent it straight into her chest with the intention of piercing her heart and delivering a quick and clean kill.

The blade missed the pulsing organ however when a hard defensive kick to her stomach as quick and as sharp as a bullet threw off her aim and she was sent backwards a few steps, her blade leaving her chest almost immediately after it had entered and missing it's mark entirely. Despite the freedom though the Hunter only staggered back and wheezed painfully as blood quickly pooled into her collapsing lung. She went down on one knee with an agonized snarl and Eileen felt a sudden twinge of panic when her blunder caused such suffering. The creature weakly raised her pistol, but by the time it had even reached shoulder level there was already a cold blade in her thrashing heart. The flickering beating ceased and the gun clattered to the cobblestone, and the Crow gently lowered her limp form to the ground and set her on her back, pulling the blade out of her chest and sending it straight up into the chin of a stray beast that had slipped past the others, a scowl forming on her face as she grew restless with their inability to control the crowd.

The beasts continued to swarm, and most were too occupied with their own battles to even gaze up to see whether or not there was an end to them.

"Should we make a run for it!?" Tommy shouted frantically when he was suddenly unsure whether this was something they could pull off without an actual loss.

Through squinted eyes Pete saw the form of a creature rising to it's feet and he threw a powerful swing into the side of it's head, discharging a metal stake deep into its skull. He quickly barked out an order, a sense of ferocity quickly settling in his heart as he grew further unwilling to pull back. " _Stand your ground!_ "

The Hunters continued the fight mercilessly, Eileen joining in as well now that her prey had been slain and with her help it didn't take long before the numbers began to dwindle and the hunters finally regained control over them just as the light of morning began to break the night. Amélie managed the last kill, and the Hunters stilled and listened for any further threats as the air grew silent save for the sounds of quick breathing and the rasps of half dead beasts yet to be finished off.

The danger seemed to have passed for the moment, and only at the cost of one Hunter.

The fight winded down after what felt and eternity and Elizabeth sat down onto an uneven curb with a grimace, setting her hammer aside to take blood for the bloodied gash on her arm. Tommy quickly knelt down beside to her to assist, while Gascoigne and Henryk pulled their weapons from separate beasts. The dog obediently padded over to Elizabeth with a limp when she clicked her tongue to beckon it and it sat slowly at the Hunter's side, knowing well it would be treated for it's wounds as it always was after a grueling fight. It's white fur was soaked with splotches of red but otherwise it seemed to be in little pain, and perhaps even more tired than hurt as it sat panting and watching it's surroundings diligently.

"Should we wait for him?" Elizabeth asked with a hissed breath as she stretched her arm out testingly. The Crow had been right it seemed, taking into account deaths that could occur and now it was only a matter of saving time.

"He knows where we're going, and he has a copy of the map." Pete answered her with apparent strain in his voice. He leaned against the brick wall of the building beside them and slowly sat as well, his head still throbbing as his eyes finally began to clear for the first time, much more slowly than he preferred. A hand went into his left pocket and he pulled out the map he spoke of and held it out in front of him and unfolded it. "If the lamps he has listed are still in working order, the designated area we should be meeting him at is..."

He squinted down at the paper for a moment before growling and handing sharply out to the person closest to him, who happened to be Amélie. She had been watching his odd mannerisms as he spoke. He didn't take any significant damage, but still he seemed pained, or perhaps agitated.

"I can't read this damn thing, give it to Tom."

She took the paper with a leery glance and he let his head fall against the wall when she finally walked away, rubbing his palms over his eyes. Even the low lighting of the rising early morning felt like staring at the sun after hours of darkness.

"Here." A subtle voice suddenly offered before him.

Seeing as most were distracted with their injuries, Eileen knelt down before him and took the liberty of removing his hat, pulling a square leather pouch from her belt. She quickly raised a narrow strip of bandage, and Pete grew still when he felt her place it over his eyes and began to wrap it around the crown of his head. Her eyes flickered to the sides as she did this, the Hunters still looking to be busy with checking their wounds and their weapons, and the Powder Keg suddenly felt foolish for not thinking to do this before they had set out.

"You hunters are always finding ways to muss yourselves." She lectured with a forming smirk when he remained silent.

"They are not typically this delicate," He spoke sorely, opening his eyes to find his vision much more bearable now and his perception not as obstructed as he presumed it would be.

"The pain will subside shortly, but keep your eyes covered until then," She uttered softly, keeping her voice low by intention. She'd taken notice of the oddly paler color of his eyes when they had first met, but merely assumed them to be of a lighter blue hue. Painful receptiveness to light was almost always a tell of the towns unique illness, but there were exceptions, as rare as they were to come across. There were not a large number of hunters who dreamed compared to the more traditional persons, and even less who had left the Dream. There was always a price to pay when breaking away from a lifestyle though, even if that life happened to be one of immortality. "This won't block your vision entirely, but it should dull the sensitivity."

He nodded.

“You speak from experience I take it.” The man ventured, sitting idly as she wrapped the bandage around his head and began to secure it.

Her movements hesitated for a moment before she carried on and answered his assumption quietly. “Let’s keep that between us for now... If ya don’t mind.”

“Of course,” He replied surely, understanding her concerns completely. “It hasn't been long since... Well. You wouldn't happen to know how long it will be before the sensitivity dulls for good?”

“A few months is what I’ve found. Some days can be louder than others though. It will not affect your hunt, as long as you are mindful.”

The unexpected conversation quickly ceased when she heard the familiar sound of Gascoigne's stride draw nearer to the group and she stood to examine the state of the others, sighing and folding her arms when she noticed the heavily blood stained scarf and shoulder the Minister had.

"Dislocated?" She questioned him in a semi serious voice.

"Not that I've noticed." 

"Hmm." She hummed flatly. Her beak rose in a mild show of suspicion, and he quickly grasped his shoulder and rolled for show.

"Still in one piece aren't I?" The Hunter defended with a spreading grin, and she shook her head, choosing to drop the matter since he saw fit to tend to his own injuries. Her concern was only ever in the efforts of making matters simpler, as in where he liked to draw out a process, she preferred to snap a bone back into place quickly rather than waste too much time. As was clear by now though, not many approved of her methods when it came to treatments. The brief exchange between them ended just in time for them to here Tommy make an announcement.

"The good news is that he's probably going to be waiting for us not far from the tower." He spoke slowly as he scrutinized the map in one hand and held his other out to Elizabeth, pulling her to her feet while he talked. "The bad news is that Pete has some shit penmanship. Honestly, you'd think-..."

His peeved tone died off when he looked up to see Eileen hold out a hand and help the Hunter to his feet, a white thin sheet of dressing hiding his eyes from sight.

"You alright there, Pete?" Elizabeth followed his gaze when his expression changed and she quickly took notice as well. She immediately rose and paced over to him, followed by an equally concerned Tommy who was already folding the map closed.

"Fine, fine," Muttered Pete, situating his hat back on his head and finding himself forced to make something known to the group as their eyes fell on him oddly. "It is not symptoms the scourge, merely the consequences of fulfilling one's duty to a certain godly presence."

"Past Dreamer, eh?" Gascoigne mused, the announcement making things much clearer. Admittedly he had first assumed illness at first, and was relieved to find there wasn't an issue they would be forced to eventually deal with. "Well you certainly fight like one, even blinded it seems."

He nodded a brief thanks, appreciating the sentiment. The Dream certainly didn't define whether one was a true Hunter or not, something he had learned shortly after leaving it. It was a comforting thought to be still of use. Not even the threat of death held him from fulfilling his duties, and he took a certain degree of pride in that aspect.

"Can you even see past that?" Elizabeth queried as she craned her head to study his face, and Tommy leaned in close as well, clear skepticism in his features. The Hunter quickly began to grow irritated by their bothersome worry. They were behaving not much unlike hens inspecting a precious egg.

"Sadly, yes," He growled, only able to take so much of Tommy's ridiculously smug face within a three foot radius of him, and he put a hand on his shoulder and pushed to create distance between them, "Now, show me where we're heading."

Tommy unfolded the map again, pointing out a barely visible blur of an area he was already thankfully familiar with enough to recognize. Who needed sight after all when one knew the city like the back of their hand?

"New destination then." He muttered wearily. "Meet with Djura, then head towards the tower. Now, if you all wouldn't mind, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from _dying_ please. It merely wastes time."

Taking the map back coldly, he began to lead the way once again, and Elizabeth suddenly remembered the existence of the Crow when a scented whiff of incense was faintly detectable as she passed by her in an air of silence.

"I've never seen one cut down so fast. I'll admit I had my doubts, but I'm sure glad you came along with us," She applauded her skills with a forming smirk and absorbed in her thoughts Eileen wasn't aware she was addressing her until Gascoigne added to this, the man ever wary of an opportunity to praise his fellow hunters.

"Quick on her feet she is." He communicated almost proudly and transformed the long structure of his axe shorter so he could hold it at his side easier while they walked. "First hunter I've ever seen to do a visceral with her left hand."

Amélie thought this a strange to hear, having never heard of anyone who deviated from the typical method of visceral approach. She didn't make her curious thoughts known though, remaining silent as Eileen replied in a distant voice lacking of life.

"Let's just hope the next time we come across another Hunter, there won't be as many beasts."

"Avoid using your firearms if you can." Pete suddenly added to her concerns. "The less noise we make the better."

Eileen nodded in agreement, and Gascoigne's face wasn't the only grow bitter.

The only thing a Hunter loved more than a good hunt was their choice in guns after all.

"Speaking of firearms," Amélie suddenly remembered, sensing it a fine time to voice a curiosity of hers, "That is an odd weapon you have there Pete. I've never seen one like it."

"I certainly hope so, since I designed it myself... With some input from Elizabeth of course."

"It's a Stake Driver," Tommy joined the talk, pulling a thick metal spike from his pocket and tossing it into the air with a chuckle, "Get it? Stake Driver?" He further elaborated as the stake fell heavily back into his palm.

"Yes," She assured him blandly, "I get it."

"Tom also helped with the, uh- testing of the weapon."

"Right. Testing," He pointed out sorely when Pete mentioned this and shoved the odd ammunition back into his pocket, "I took a face full of metal shards while we were “testing” it once. That was fun."

Amélie became much more interested in the exchange suddenly, finding the talk a calming thing considering their recent encounter, and another curiosity quickly began to rise the longer Tommy spoke.

"Well, no one died, and we fixed the weapon in the end. I call that a success."

"Remind me why I always get dragged along with your antics whenever death is a possibility. I'm starting to think that perhaps you two aren't the healthiest individuals to be around."

"Well you didn't die, so quit your bellyaching," Elizabeth chimed in," And I told you to watch where you were angling it." 

"You don't dream?" Amélie suddenly blurted out.

The sudden question caught him off guard for a moment but he quickly answered it readily, not turning back to meet her eye as they walked.

"Well, besides the occasional good nights rest, can't say I do," The Hunter admitted with a shrug, "Feel free to tell your godly employers to send me an invite though anytime."

She didn't reply this time, only giving Elizabeth an odd look which she clearly ignored, and she made a mental note to bring it up in the future whenever they would finally be able to talk without prying ears. It explained though why he was quick to opt for abandoning the fight.

"It seems Tom and I are the only two in the same boat." Pete muttered almost sorely. There was no denying that their group carried a strong moon scented aura with them wherever they went. Surely it would attract all sort of curious beasts.

"I’m still unsure if these two are pulling my leg about this whole talking doll story," Tommy pondered aloud as he looked at his two partners on either side of him and then back to Amélie who he assumed had no reason to lie. There weren't many other Dreamers willing to talk of it anyways, as odd as that was. "Tell me, is it true?"

“Yes.” The Beast Hunter answered shortly.

“But, what does she look like?"

“She’s a doll Tommy.” Elizabeth answered him now, with perhaps a smidge of impatience in her voice, “She looks like a doll.”

“A little one?"

"No, rather tall actually." Gascoigne mused thoughtfully.

"What of her face?"

Irritation began to set into the Hunter's features as they continued to entertain him, and Elizabeth quickly threw him a peeved look. She purposely avoided these types of conversations but the others seemed content on fulfilling his curiosities. “What does it matter what her face looks like? She's a doll.” She chided, but she knew when he flashed his ever famous grin that he was about to say something tasteless.

"A pretty face does wonders in my experience.”

Eileen's face wasn't the only that scrunched in disapproval and the rest quickly regretted humoring him, not finding it in good taste to speak improperly of the kindly being who inhabited the Dream.

Elizabeth sighed and scratched her finger over her brow, knowing he was probably enjoying the discontent. “Further proving why you haven't been chosen to Dream.” She muttered.

Pete as well felt the same annoyance that she did, but after years of knowing the two he had grown accustomed to the quips, and it hardly bothered him at this point. Despite her almost aggressive excitability for the hunt though, Elizabeth possessed a good deal of dignity, which only meant she still endured embarrassment in instances like this. No doubt Tom was enjoying that as well. "To anyone who hasn't met Tom, let that be your first proper introduction," He announced dryly, "A fine Hunter, and a miscreant by profession."

Tommy turned and backpedaled for a moment with a grin, delivering a short bow to the hunters behind them. "I aim to please."

"Charmed." The Crow replied flatly.

The others saw no point in offering anything but weak smiles, given Eileen had it pretty well covered.

As they led them on through narrow alleys and odd shortcuts that she would have otherwise missed, Amélie found herself pondering the Dream while the others held idle chatter over the operations of the Powder Kegs, something she had little interest in.

It had become the topic of conversation many a time in the past few weeks. The Dream was something she rarely spoke of, as it almost always led to a series of questions she herself could not answer, but it almost provided an odd sense of belonging to discuss it with these hunters so freely.

It wasn't clear, why some were chosen over others. Every Hunter chosen was half cut with blood of course but even those who received ministration and were excellent killers with cunning skills sometimes died without ever seeing the soft light of the Dream. It seemed an odd thing and clearly whatever it was that chose who to offer immortality to was a picky being, having little concern for those who probably deserved it more than most. This must be true if this same presence had chosen her over the countless others who had tried and died living a Hunters life. Surely there were far more fitting for the role than herself, all those years ago.

She recalled how it felt to find herself met with the strangeness of it all. The unexplainable nature of where the Dream resided exactly, how it moved through time at a different rate than the waking world, and the peculiarly kind Doll that resided within it who seemed to posses a deep rooted devotion to strangers she had never even met. As soon as the confusion had worn off and her curiosity set in she found the experience almost akin to that of being reborn. And even before she had first traded the echoes of slain beasts to strengthen her body, there were noticeable differences.

She could run faster, lift more, hit harder, and just about any tedious task was made simpler. Sleep was all but rendered unnecessary by timely visits to the Dream, making it's inhabitants much more effective at their jobs. Her senses had been heightened as well, almost to the extent of being uncomfortable in the first few days, her perception overstimulated by the sounds, smells, touch, and even a sharpened sight that seemed to have an slightly extended field of view before she had grown accustomed to it and the changes became commonplace again. Life had suddenly snapped into a clearer focus, and there were moments when time felt as if it slowed down and sped up, allowing her to avoid bullets long before they fired and react to the actions of beasts with split second reflexes. The time after this initial excitement was something she tried not to dwell on for too long. The Dream had been her savior for a short time, but it's arrival brought an equal share of woes, and dwelling on the past contributed nothing to the hunt.

When they finally approached nearer to their destination they were shortly met with Djura, who seemed very pleased despite his gruesome death, happy that their meeting went so smoothly and in a timely fashion as well. A short climb up a ladder provided an easy path to the more elevated part of town, finally out of the suffocating tightly packed buildings and into clearer ground which provided an interesting view of the darkly picturesque Yharnam skyline, the pointed spires and tiled rooftops illuminated by the soft light of early morning just spilling over the horizon. They passed by the massive wooden doors that provided entrance into the Cathedral Ward area and just being this close to the worshiping grounds of the Church was enough to put Amélie on edge.

It wasn't long after this that the dark tower in question came into sight, an imposing silent object standing tall over the dark orange horizon of early morning. They examined it briefly from a distance before pressing further cautiously, walking over a short bridge past the wooden double doors and descending down the steps towards it. So far, there were no hunters that could be seen at the top.

There were no beasts on the upper ground surrounding them but the number in the streets surrounding the tower- perhaps drawn by the noise of the massive gun visible at even this distance- was an astounding thing to Amélie, and the word scourge quickly began to show it's true meaning. Eileen and the others who had wormed their way into this part of town were also shocked to see with their own eyes an outbreak in what felt like a contained day of age, though the sight was far from unfamiliar. The Powder Kegs themselves only saw it as a weary image, callous to the awe that such a thing could grow to become so out of hand in an area such as this. The group slowly made their way closer to it, seeing a sizable amount of rubble and destroyed buildings before them. The gun had been used in the past, that much was clear by the damage.

They came to a stop at the end of a raised platform, atop the roof of a building that extended to the level below them and Pete and Elizabeth placed their hands on the sandbags that lined the edge before them, scrutinizing the tower.

“Oh, thank the Gods. They're still up there.” Elizabeth announced finally in relief and the group came to a stop at the edge as well to see what she claimed.

Amélie glanced back up at the tower also, seeing a single figure at the top, their appearance strongly placing them as a Hunter.

"Why do they not kill the beasts?" Questioned Gascoigne in a mutter, his eyes dragging back down to the heard bellow them. His gaze moved further on to the visible tops of buildings he knew to be residences in the Lower part of the city, and he only hoped the people who lived there had found refuge with the Powder Kegs they were soon to meet with.

Pete made a small noise of disgruntlement, seeing only a tedious problem ahead of them. The scattered groups of deformed below would surely pose a problem should they attempt to make there way through. It wasn't impossible to run past a herd, as most beasts became to distracted when surrounded by greater numbers of bodies, but now that a goal was in sight it seemed pointless when they had such a powerful weapon at their disposal.

"Perhaps at the moment they do not want to draw too much attention?" Djura theorized in a low voice. "That is... quite a horde."

"Whatever the reason," Pete began keenly, leaning forward slightly for a better look "We can't take on those beasts without the help of that gun, at least not without wasting precious lives and time. We need their assistance."

"I don't even think they've noticed us yet," Djura pointed out further as the Hunter atop continued to remain still, looking almost as if they were watching down over the beasts in a trance. "...Should we use a flare?"

Pete's expression grew unwilling, not ready to part with the precious supply just yet. "I've only three at the moment, and I'd rather save them for when we press further on. It will be the only way to signal our location to those who die should we be separated. Unless any of you have lamps further on I haven't been made aware of?"

No one answered. Amélie herself hadn't even pressed this far into the city, and it seemed neither had most of the others. If they had there would have been little need for this trip in the first place.

Elizabeth huffed, seeing little choice now. So far their three minutes of chatter yielded little action, something that didn't sit well with her considering they had come this far. Much farther than they had made it anytime before. "Well, that settles it then." She cupped her hands over her mouth and promptly yelled out into the air, “ _You lot! Down here!"_

The Hunter atop the structure visibly turned and came to a standstill once again when she shouted up at them, and they were joined by a second silhouette that suddenly stood up and peered down at them as well.

“Ah, good.” Spoke Djura with relief, giving a brief nod of approvement. “Hopefully they can provide some relief from the beasts."

The figures atop the tower moved about for a moment and Eileen noticed with growing skepticism how one approached the gun while the other yet saw no cause for alarm. When it’s position began to turn on them she took a startled step back, finding her voice quickly despite her panic.

“ _They’re taking aim!"_

A sudden rumble of gunfire rained down from the sky and every hunter reeled backwards from the unexpected assault. They hardly had the chance to properly move away before the wood structure under the brick splintered beneath the force of the impact, and the ground under them groaned with age and gave out without warning. The dog was the only one of them that was quick enough to avoid the drop, clambering wildly over the decayed crackling stone and just barely making it to sturdier ground as the others began to plunge downwards. The rock dragged them into the room below in a dusty grey air of rolling brick and wood and there were short shouts of shock just before they hit the ground. The fall wasn't particularly long, perhaps nine or ten feet at the most, but the landing was far from cushy.

Eileen was the first to her feet and there was a frantic scramble as the others followed in kind, their eyes falling on the stone door-less opening to their left and many of them thinking the same thing. The noise of the room collapsing would no doubt draw the beasts in if the gunfire hadn't already alerted them and now they were no longer a safe distance above the creatures. It was only a matter of time before they found their way through the rubble and into the room.

The Crow Hunter glanced around their surroundings with newfound fear, taking keen notice of the scent of explosives surrounding them in the close air. Situated near the corner in six neat rows were large pots, a frightening sight now that the sound of bullets raining against the barely intact wall facing the tower was suddenly heard again.

"Get away from the jars!" She yelled again over the roar of gunfire, but hardly a second later the wall collapsed and the force of the explosion knocked every hunter off their feet as a larger the part of the rotted building creaked and began to collapse in over their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, Djura, yet another familiar face.  
> I'm lacking in actual Powder Keg hunters as you can probably tell, having to fill the group with an array of hunters to help further the story, so of course he plays a part.  
> At the moment, he has yet to adopt his "beast-are-people mentality," but luckily since this story takes place in the past, that gives me the opportunity to use this as means of character development.  
> His attire in one case notes:  
>  _Djura is known through his contact with the Powder Kegs, the heretics of the workshop. He is said to have been both uncommonly kind and dreadfully foolish._  
>  I took this to heart when writing his character, for example, his motivation in this particular chapter to ignore a very viable piece of weaponry in order to provide quicker help to the townsfolk of Yharnam.  
> All of this I've just said is really only to give you an idea of what his place in my story is, in case you were wondering. He may have the stomach to kill the beasts now, but that doesn't mean this can't change with some, *ahem* unfortunate events, in upcoming chapters.


	24. Recovery and Retreat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may be a bit hard on these characters...

The only two who were able to act quick enough before the explosion were the hunters in black. Gascoigne immediately took the blunt force of the impact when he shielded Henryk against the far wall where they had staggered to their feet after the fall, lethally close to the point of the blast, and Eileen herself acted fast enough to grab for the nearest non dreamer, that Hunter being Tommy. The rest of the hunters were completely caught off guard.

The air eventually stilled and the trickling of debris settling finally ceased, and the groups hound barked madly up above them, it's concern only further alerting the beasts as it lurched anxiously from side to side, not brave enough to dare the length of the fall. Slowly the hunters examined their positions and found their wounds.

Amélie dragged herself to lie against a toppled splintered cabinet, a shrill ring reverberating in her ears loud enough to almost drown out the sounds of pain around her. Thankfully the gunfire seemed to have ceased for the time being and the hunters possessed enough awareness to stay more or less quiet this time.

Pete groaned and sat up gingerly, being the first to speak with a nagging wheeze.

“ _You lot, down here,_ ” He mimicked her words bitterly in a hushed tone, “Good one, Liz. Might as well have just held up a target for them to-”

“Suck a cock, Pete.” Elizabeth spat brashly and got to her feet with an impatient stagger, testing her weight on her left leg with an angered mutter, “I hear you’re quite good at- Ow, what the-!?”

Her vulgar reply was cut short when a small pebble tossed in her direction met its mark, bouncing off the side of her head with a dull thunk. She shot the blonde a glare from across the room but the annoyance in her face quickly dropped when she suddenly remembered who else was in the room with them and she forgot Amélie entirely in that moment. Pete she knew lived so far, but the moment she recalled the second mortal Hunter among them her chest swelled with fear for the first time in a long while.

 _“Tommy?”_ She spoke sharply and stiffened and her head turned anxiously around the room as she tried to make out his figure in the rubble.

“Alive,” His voice responded to the call with a hoarse cough and she immediately snapped her gaze to her other side to see him on the ground as well, partially covered by the Crow Hunters cape who also looked to be unmoving, “...Barely.”

“You'd better be joking,” Elizabeth scolded gravely and began to walk over to where the two lay before he quickly stopped her.

“Joking. I'm fine.” He replied dully and held up a hand weakly for sure before it fell back to the ground. “Go help Pete. Pretty sure that thing sticking out of his side isn't natural.”

"Tom, shut that dog _up._ " Pete finally worked up the nerve to growl with another wheeze, his already nervous mind growing increasingly so as the hound continued to bark in sharp whines above them.

Eileen grimaced and she sat up carefully on her forearms just as he snapped this command and the Hunter that was beneath her rolled away slowly stopped to lie on his back with a bitter groan, and he quickly whistled up to the dog to silence it before drawing another aggravated breath. The canine continued to whimper but sat reluctantly now, laying down on all fours and gazing down at them with its head hanging low over the edge. It continued to make long low whines through it's nose, but for the moment Eileen was only thankful that it had finally stopped barking.

She twisted her right arm up to test whether or not it was truly a broken rib on her side, ignoring the firm pressure over her leg for now since there wasn’t much immediate pain to be felt there. The movement didn't bring much discomfort which was certainly a good sign, the ribs probably being bruised at most if even that. She then rolled a shoulder experimentally and lifted her other hand to place a hand behind it, feeling with her fingers that there was something firmly embedded not far below her shoulder. Another searing pain quickly made her aware of another foreign object protruding from her lower back, though this one didn't feel as deep. This really seemed to be the extent of her injuries so far and she found that she'd fared much better than expected. As bitter as the sting felt it was much more preferable than losing a Hunter, which was frightfully easy when they weren't a Dreamer. All the skill in the world didn't change the fact that the average person could be easily killed with just a dent in just the wrong place.

“Thanks for that.” She heard Tommy suddenly say weakly as he sat up against the wall and pulled his stake driver into his lap and examined it for damage. His face twisted in sadness for a moment when he saw one of the mechanisms twisted before his features evened and he let out a sigh of bleak acceptance.

“Someone’s gotta keep you hunters in one piece.” Muttered Eileen, and she turned to look over her shoulder, still ignoring the rubble over her leg as she was more concerned whether they had lost anyone. Her eyes fell on the sight of Henryk, who had just finished pushing Gascoigne’s body off of him, and she had really hoped that of all the dreamers to die, he wouldn't be one of them. The Minister excelled when it came to dealing with mobs, but now it seemed that if it came to it they would be forced to fight without him. “I’m afraid I can only do so much in one second though.”

He fared much worse than all of them in terms of shrapnel, and it didn't take long for the Dream to claim him, no doubt sending him to a lamp hopefully not to far. She could almost imagine the agitated look on his face when he would awake. In fact she had seen it, many times. The result of knowing a man who tended to have a track record akin to that of a newborn dreamer, being much too excited at times to exercise proper patience.

“Well, the last time a woman threw themselves at me it went much differently.” He quickly jested with a laugh when he sensed the opportunity, but immediately found himself regretting the chuckle with a hissed curse when his side ached as he chuckled, and the groans that followed the remark were certainly not sounds of pain.

“Tom, I swear to god.” Grumbled Pete under his breath as he administered a vial with Elizabeth's help the moment she pulled the metal from his side with one swift jerk, and he only had a wince to show for the pain, having felt much worse in his time as a Hunter by now so that most serious wounds could be withstood as long as they didn't linger too long.

Eileen ignored the comment, instead deciding it was about time she stood, but her movements came to a halt when she gave her leg a pull. The section of collapsed wall resting firmly over her ankle didn’t budge in the slightest and a small twist of her leg immediately told her something under it was broken, something she had sadly failed to notice until now.

" _Damn._ "

"One moment," Tommy offered with a short groan as he steadily got to his feet and walked over to the large piece of rubble lying over her foot before kneeling again, “...Hell, I don't see how you Dreamers survive some of this shit...” He muttered under his breath when he noticed the state of some of them as he prepared to push the heavy stone concrete off. His mouth contorted into a scowl, not one to enjoy seeing his partners similar to that of human pincushions and he hooked his gloved hands under the concrete and hoisted it up, flipping it onto it’s other side and freeing her.

“Sometimes we would rather not.” Amélie spoke up for the first time with a dry cough as she finally got to her feet as well and she held a hand out to Henryk to help him up, seeing as he was closest and had just finished pulling a few small foreign objects from his right side as well. Despite the bruises and the few shards of debris she quickly noticed that compared to the rest her and the yellow garbed Hunter hadn't taken nearly as much damage. Many of them were already pulling glass and wood from their bodies, and in Pete's case, a slim metal rod that was now lying on the blood stained ground at his side. That couldn't have been comfortable. As she helped Henryk to his feet, her eyes scanned the destroyed room and quickly saw that the Minister was nowhere to be seen.

“I see we lost the Church Hunter.” Amélie spoke before addressing the rest of the room. “Anything severe?”

“No, just dandy,” Tommy answered her lowly, the tone of his voice suggesting he knew little of what he was saying and his hand hovered over her leg unsurely as he added, “Except,-uh, I’m not a doctor or anything mind you, but I'm pretty sure your foot is not supposed to face that way."

“Ya think,” Eileen conveyed tediously and reached behind herself, plucking the glass from her lower back and throwing it aside so she could comfortably rest against what ever surface was behind her. Now that the rubble wasn’t crushing her limb the pain was certainly ten fold but the group had come out well despite the brutal attack so she didn’t count the mission a failure yet, though the day was still young. How they were even going to get past that tower with their numbers was another trial in itself.

She carefully pulled the leg inwards for a better look as she bit the inside of her cheek and she her gaze turned when Henryk made a beeline for her and immediately crouched down next to her to inspect it, his eyes squinted as he examined the damage.

“Saw that hit he took for ya.” She said with a stiff exhale, trying to keep her breathing even. “I don't imagine you’ll be hearin’ the end of that one for awhile.”

Henryk's reply hardly left his mouth before Pete's sudden anxious call cut in.

"There were two, right?” He questioned aloud as he peaked around the wall's edge carefully to peer out of the sizable hole in the wall still reeking of heated oil. “...Two hunters? Because I only see one up there now.”

The room fell quiet and the sound of a nearby minigun shredding a screeching beast was audible, suggesting that something was clearly making it's way towards them.

“ _Fuck._ ” Elizabeth cursed and swiftly administered her last vial.

Eileen also quickly wasted no more time as she reached back to grab a specific vial, a type she hadn't used in a long while. Sadly now there would only be one left, the first having been used on the Hunter who had suffered from the case of friendly fire. A broken bone could heal just fine with enough typical blood, but it would take longer than she thought was smart to linger in one place for. Especially with killers and beasts on all sides.

“Our numbers are five to one, it isn't as if they’d be able to take us. Right?” Tommy fretted with nervousness at the sudden scrambling and took to watching the tattered doorway anxiously, almost expecting a blood crazed maniac to leap through at any moment.

“Have ya forgotten the massive gun down shooting on us? The numbers don't matter, the second we move from here they’ll fire,” Eileen reminded him with a deepening frown. For a moment she began to fear she had not properly prepared for this trip but thankfully her hand finally grasped the vial and she twisted back around with a small sigh of relief before speaking again. “It’ll be hard enough trying to fight without bullets coming down over our heads, even without the beasts- **_AH_** , _damn it Henryk!_ ” She hissed and doubled over forward with an angered growl when he suddenly prodded her ankle without warning.

“I doubt this is going to heal back properly,” He said apologetically and quickly drew his hand back when her mask moved to glare at him, “I think it would be best to take this back to the Dream.”

Amélie who had already paced over, curious to see what the fuss was over her, leaned over her and took the liberty of removing another shard of debris she had missed on her upper arm. She listened eagerly though as they spoke, wondering whether or not she would be forced to admit there was in fact no Dream to retreat to. The slightly unnatural angle of her leg certainly looked painful and she was surprised she possessed the ability to speak so clearly. Amélie herself dreaded broken bones and considered it among her least favorite injuries, the deep dull ache making it difficult for her to even think straight on the occasions she had the unfortunate luck of experiencing them.

The Crow Hunter drew another hiss through her teeth as her screaming nerves died down again, finding an even voice again though it was strained with slight irritation now. “I’m not going anywhere with those hunters slinking about.”

His eyes fell on the abnormally long vial grasped tightly in her hand as she put her hand flat on the ground and moved back to straighten her posture against the wall. Not the typical blood most hunters carried on them but it was certainly potent enough to heal most major wounds, and quickly too. It also wasn’t easy blood for one to get their hands on and he wondered briefly why she felt the need to have such an expensive luxury.

“Now move it.” She muttered after no longer than two seconds and swatted his hovering hands away with her own. Henryk frowned when she ignored his concerns, but there was little to be done when she set her mind to something anyhow.

She reached for her leg and Tommy immediately cringed and took a half step back.

“Wait a second, maybe first you should-”

She disregarded his unease and twisted the foot slightly with a sickening squelch and a stifled grunt and he wasn't the only one near to grimace when she righted the ankle.

“Ahh, okay- Right. That works.” He muttered distastefully and sharply turned away the moment the leg contorted, regretting his decision to abandon his guard over the door immediately.

“Fucking hell,” Amélie muttered as well, having no time to prepare for the disturbing sight, much less the sound, “A warning would have been-”

“For heaven's sake you lot are _hunters_ , we aren't exactly the squeamish type," she chided with a uneasy voice, “ _And keep your voices down_.” There was no sense in them acting so delicate. Most hunters saw worse than that on a weekly basis anyhow. She jammed the vial into her thigh and exhaled and then reached for her side and quickly tore off a strip from her cape, remembering it was wise to act fast. She leaned forward again and began to tie it tightly around the snapped bone, wincing under her mask as she further aligned it with a firm pull of the fabric. Now all there was left to do was wait and hope the bone would heal properly the with the first treatment. Revisiting it again later was not an appealing idea.

“This might take a few minutes.”

Djura was the last to stand and was mostly quiet until now, rubbing a hand over his sore neck and taking keen notice of the sounds of slaughter drawing closer but he soon spoke up when everyone seemed set on taking their time. “I don't think we have a few minutes.” He announced with a mutter. "Twice in one day and that many deaths. I'm beginning to think our little group doesn't have the best-"

Tommy suddenly recoiled away from the doorway he was leaning out and he laid his back flat against the wall with a shrill hushing sound and the Hunters all immediately fell quiet, their eyes moving curiously to the open doorway.

There was a heavy pad of footsteps over wood floor in the next room and a massive shaggy beast slowly ambled past the open doorway, wolf like in appearance and on all fours. It's size almost made it impossible to see it's full figure in the narrow doorway, but Amélie caught a glimpse from where she knelt frozen in place of it's slack jawed head, a row of sharp yellowed teeth dripping oddly dark saliva onto the floor until it's head past the doorway. The creature was far larger than most beasts she had encountered and the sheer size of it stunned every one of them into still muteness. It stopped suddenly when only it's grizzly hind legs were visible and the beast rose it’s nose to the air, the scent of blood meeting it's senses and a moment later a sudden low growl was heard. A screech of a beast being slain at a distance caused its gaze to snap towards another diversion though, and it's attention was quickly drawn to blood being spilled outside and the sounds of slaughter.

A frantic scraping of claws and fast paced footfall told them they were safe for the moment and Tommy wasn't the only one that let out a breath of relief. It was certainly one of the more intimidating beasts they had come across, and he didn't trust they were in the proper shape to be taking it on.

"Alright..." He announced with a nervous laugh, his eyes flickering to each speechless person. "I'm really starting to miss that Church Hunter about now. Anyone else have a massive weapon up their sleeves? Besides Elizabeth that is.”

Eileen laid a hand flat against the wall behind her, determined not to spend another second sitting, and Amélie put a hand under her arm as she pushed herself up onto one foot. The other was held loosely above the floor as she tried to keep her weight off the bone and Henryk as well supported her by her other arm, he with a clearer look of worry on his face though as she further insisted on ignoring the vital tool that the Dream was.

She kept her foot held lightly in the air, the tip of her boot barely brushing the dusty ground. It was nowhere near ready to use and she didn't dare try to put pressure on it for fear of hindering the healing. By now the bone should have begun fusing, but it was no doubt still weak. Not only were there addled hunters lurking about but now there was that monstrosity, and if this group was to avoid being torn to shreds Eileen knew they had to stay moving, and fast.

“The rest of you move on, I’ll join ya once I take care of those hunters,” She announced and six pairs of eyes turned on her, most with disapproval.

“If you plan on taking them out,” Djura spoke with a roll of his shoulder and a frown, the wound on his back closing as he spoke, “Then there is no point in us leaving you, much less the area. Someone has to stay behind to clear the beasts once the gun is back in our hands.”

“And who would that be?” She replied, testing her weight on her foot and immediately drawing a breath through clenched teeth when the action was met with a burning ache. “...You?”

“Heavens no.” He wrote off her suggestion with disregard. “I haven't the slightest idea how to work that thing."

“And here I thought you were against the whole notion of getting it back.” Grumbled Pete as he knelt down and quickly began to search the debris for his gun.

“That was _before_ they thought it a suitable to drop half a building over my head.”

“Enough arguing.” Eileen cut in sharply before another reply could be made. “Make up your minds somewhere else, right now it's time to leave."

“We’re hardly going to leave you behind.” Henryk argued, and Amélie scowled as well when precious seconds were being spent on everyone coddling each other.

“None of you need to be gettin’ your hands dirty, the last thing we want-”

“Alright, enough talk, we’re leaving.” Amélie proclaimed sternly and quickly slipped a hand around her waist and an arm under her legs, hoisting her up into her arms in one swift motion before she could have the chance to argue, not that it stopped her from doing so.

“Amélie, what-!”

“You can’t slow us down if you aren’t walking.” She pointed out impatiently in a rush of words, swiftly following the rest as Pete wasted no time now leading them out a back door once his gun was back in his hands, and The Crow immediately felt panic when she realized she had gotten no time to grab her weapon off the ground as well.

"Henryk, my blades!" She called out over the Hunter's shoulder with an urgently outstretched hand towards where they lay, and he quickly swiped them into his hand before pursuing the rest, perhaps a small grin on his face despite their haste. There were few who put their foot down when it came to Eileen after all.

They swiftly crossed a makeshift bridge to cover, winding their way through an abandoned overarching building that only led them closer to the tower. The gunfire exploded back into being the moment they ran from the crumbled building and fell silent once more when they went into hiding, only for it to erupt a few seconds after dashing into the open. The four Powder Keg hunters led the way with Pete in front leading them to safety, and the group cut through the disoriented beasts that stood in their path, providing an easy trail through the lot. Henryk quickly pressed further ahead to the middle of the group, ensuring no beasts would stray any closer to only two who could not partake in fighting them off. The direction Pete led them in was towards the framework of the denser town with the intention to hopefully use the city's homes as shelter from the assault. At first the reaction of the surrounding beasts were stalled as the group sliced and blasted their way through, the piercing sound of gunfire from different locations confusing them and drawing their focus, but it didn't stop a few from immediately taking chase the moment their eyes spotted the Hunters nearby. The creatures following at a distance were mostly ignored for now as the Gatling gun was their only greatest concern.

They drew nearer and nearer to a final street that would finally lead to adequate cover once crossed and the rain on gunfire ceased once again just before they ducked into an alley. It’s brutal direction was aimed momentarily at a couple of beasts in the street across from them, a convenient problem that was now eradicated by the blood lustful hunters and the air stilled again after a few moments, the perfect cue to make a mad dash for safety. They moved quickly, and Amélie briskly stepped out to follow the leading hunters as well before she was suddenly forced to jerk back when a sudden blast of heat in front of her cut the two off from the group. She stumbled backwards, miraculously managing to keep her balance as she held the Hunter tighter so as to not drop her and she ducked back behind the alleys brick corner, slamming her back against the wall just as the bullets began to eat away at the brick.

"What the hell?!" She growled, not fond of almost being caught off guard when someone's life was quite literally in her hands at the moment. Their pattern had been predictable so far, so she hadn't expected them to wisen up and bait them out of hiding. Sadly now they knew exactly where she was and she wasn't sure if waiting was the smartest move in such an infected area.

"Watch your footing." Eileen snapped, her face souring when her hand was forced to fly forward to grasp her coat when she worried they might topple.

" _Perhaps_ if you'd have taken your own advice, I wouldn't have to." She snapped back quickly, sending an unsure glance across the street.

"There is hardly a proper way to fall through a building!"

The hunters must have grown impatient with the pause, since she was forced to angle her head away from the blazing heat to shield her face from the chunks of hot brick being shot into the air when the gunners fired onto the buildings side once again, and moving her gaze away so sharply suddenly made her aware the three approaching beasts who had been following after them, still at a reasonable distance for the moment but the third drawing much closer when it suddenly fell forward and began sprinting on all legs madly. The Crow took notice at the same moment and she immediately raised her pistol and chose her mark, pulling the trigger after a moment of steady aim.

"You missed,” Amélie warned urgently, waiting for the gunfire to cease anxiously while the beast drew even nearer, running alarmingly on all fours now and possessing a clearly raged disposition.

“I'm aware!" Eileen growled back, perfectly capable of basic sight.

The second shot hit it's torso and made it stumble for only a second before it resumed its mad dash and by the time Amélie considered putting the Hunter down the third shot found it's mark, almost a perfect center above the beast's eyes. No more than two seconds later they heard a shout, followed by a ringing silence when the gunfire died off.

“You’re clear!” They heard Tommy yell urgently and as he wildly ushered them over and Amélie quickly pushed off the wall and darted across the street before the assault could begin again. She made it into the area long after the rumble of distant fire picked up again and there were quite a few buildings thankfully sitting between them and the tower now. It was a relief not to worry about being shredded by bullets, and now hopefully it would only be a matter of losing the beasts and regrouping.

The third alley they turned into was gated off and a swift discharge of Tommy's Stake Driver broke the chain. He held the gate open and directed them into the clear path of safety and the heavy gate slammed behind them, deterring the only beasts that seemed incapable of climbing.

The second building was where they stopped, a red flag tacked above the door which didn't seem all that special to Amélie at first, but Pete recognized the marker immediately and pulled the dingy door open, inspecting the dark room still dimly lit by a lantern, a sign that there were still perhaps hunters in the area. He knew of almost every designated retreat for those scouring the city and hoped as he and Djura walked in with pistols ready that it would still head supplies and safety.

Amélie slowed just before reaching the door, her head craning to look over her shoulder when she noticed that Tommy and Elizabeth had turned and went back the way they came to deal with the stragglers who had followed them thus far and she too suddenly felt the urge to be in on the hunt too. She stopped just at the door, not wanting to go in just yet as she shook her head and caught her breath.

This past trial had been far too nerve racking and she suddenly began to wonder if she had taken for granted the peaceful streets in Central and the more or less controlled blood addled. Henryk stopped as well, deciding not to follow Djura and Pete inside just yet as he wanted to wait for his friend.

"I think we may be in the clear..." The yellow garbed Hunter stated thoughtfully as his eyes flickered between both ends of the alleys and he watched as the Powder Keg hunters began to tackle the beasts that began climbing the fence with fierce snaps through the bars, their teeth and claws screeching over the rusted black metal of the gate. He also noticed funnily enough that the Hunter was still holding Eileen, as if she had forgotten that she had all but swept her off her feet. He couldn't see the expression on her face but she seemed to be waiting patiently for her take notice, tapping her finger against her own arm as she waited.

"For now," Amélie replied, and her face was steadily calm until it suddenly shifted and she stilled, unblinking for a moment when she suddenly remembered who she was still holding. She glanced down at the Crow with a frown, realizing she had been mostly quiet. “How is your ankle?”

“Oh, that's been fully healed for awhile now.”

“... Is that so.” Amélie spoke dully and stared down at her, her face suddenly vacant of concern. “Perhaps you could have told me that sooner."

“I was enjoying the treatment.”

Amélie rolled her eyes and stepped over to Henryk, holding her out to him sharply.

“Take this.” She told pointedly as she all but pushed her into his arms. He did so without hesitation, and Eileen grimaced when she was handed off like a child.

“Why of course.” He replied with merry eagerness and Amélie immediately grabbed her saw now that her arms were free and briskly made her way towards the remaining beasts, eager to get a few picks as well for all of the trouble.

Henryk looked down at the Crow in his arms, the smirk on his face all too evident by the dark creased skin around his eyes.

“I do believe your getting lazy.”

“Henryk.”

“Yes?”

“Put me down.”

He chuckled at the flat tone but did as he was told and she tested her weight carefully when she was finally on her feet, finding very little pain to be met with. A few quick taps of the heel told her it was probably no trouble and she breathed much easier now.

That was certainly a relief.

Pete walked back out and passed between them without a word, his expression calm despite the setbacks as he loaded a gun that was thick in appearance. He craned his neck to look up for a moment before pointing the gun straight into the air and pulling the trigger and the hunters watched the flare that shot up into the early morning sky, leaving a thick plume of colored smoke that followed behind the bright projectile.

"Brilliant, I'm sure every blood drunk within the a mile will find that appealing." Eileen muttered as the Powder Keg quickly walked back inside to check the inventory, leaving only Henryk at her side once again.

"At least they have methods of signaling. If Gascoigne doesn't find us though, I’m not opposed to heading back.”

"He'll find us just fine." She walked inside as well and studied the dingy retreat before moving over to a table with assorted tools and wooden crates, something she immediately took an interest in. "He knows this place better than I, that’s for sure. I just hope those hunters stay put on that tower," She added and absentmindedly rose a hand to remove her mask. She stopped suddenly, remembering just who was in the room and she quickly decided that now was not a good time to spark questions about the obvious tells of a past dreamer she possessed. Her hand lowered and she continued to speak casually as she instead set her pistol on the tables cluttered surface. “It'll be easier to take them out if they have nowhere to run."

"You're going back out?"

"Not just yet, but soon," She further informed him, thinking it wise to ensure her pistol to be still in working order. It had taken the impact of the fall earlier, which did no favors for her side, but the blood taken left no injuries by now. A grimace sullied her hidden features when she was suddenly reminded of the precious blood wasted. The first going to a man riddled with bullets, and the second used on a broken ankle of all of the unimportant things, merely because they had been pressed for time. The last and only vial needed to be spent wisely or she could soon find herself with a dire wound and not enough time to properly treat it. If she had known things would be as hectic, she might have taken longer to properly equip herself, but there was little that could be done of it now.

Elizabeth’s voice suddenly entered the room when she walked in, bringing the beastly smell of blood with her along with Tommy who was limping at her side as she led him in. "Of course Tom chooses now to tell me he has a bullet lodged in his heel."

“To be fair," He quickly countered, "I didn't notice I’d caught one until the fighting stopped."

"Adrenaline does that," Eileen replied to the chatter without turning, immersed partly in her task, "I could remove it, if ya want."

"I'd rather have Pete do it, considering he's the designated bullet remover around here," He admitted with a dreary laugh. "And no offense but, I'd rather have it be someone who isn't dressed as an omen of death.”

"Fair enough." She offered as her head moved in a so-so manner, unbothered by the comment.

Elizabeth sighed as she urged him to move faster by giving him a gentle push, and he hopped over to a chair and sat down as she crouched and began to remove his boot attentively. "You might want to check your weapons while we're here,” she told the room, “There should be tools, and maybe still supplies, if we're lucky.”

“This is…” Amélie began as walked over to one of the tables and peered into a crate filled with vials, some fresh and some crusted with dark dried blood from the ones that had cracked and leaked. “Generous.”

“Say what you want of the Church, but they do provide for their hunters.” She proposed blandly.

Elizabeth stood and walked away to retrieve some vials and Pete sighed and knelt down before the injured hunter, choosing to speak under his breath long before Tommy could have the chance to jest.

“If you make one comment about the position I am in, I will not hesitate to let Elizabeth do this.”

The Hunter grimaced when he made this clear. When it came to removing bullets, Elizabeth possessed the grace and skill akin to that of a beast in a china shop, mostly due to the fact that she valued timely extraction over comfort.

“Far be it from me to refuse the high ground.” He replied.

Pete narrowed his eyes when he caught the heckling tone of his voice that implied he was making a joke but Tommy only offered a cheeky smile and crossed his arms after stating this, tapping his good foot innocently over the wooden floor, so the Hunter shook his head and twisted his ankle gently to find the wound, choosing to focus now.

“For someone who ends up limping away from most fights, you sure press your luck a lot Tom.” Elizabeth accused and paced back over to the two, circling around the chair and setting her hands on his shoulders. “This is what, the fifth bullet in one week?” She added, her smile masking her worry. “At this rate you won't even need to buy your own ammunitions.”

“Yes, well,” He began, wincing through his ever present smirk when the Hunter began to dig through the wound with a pair of shears, “It isn't as if enjoy having someone rummage through my flesh every other day.”

“Perhaps you should should be quicker on your feet then,” She teased and leaned over him, resting her arms around his shoulders and clasping a hand over her wrist in a smug embrace with a sly grin, “If you ever want to catch up with us Dreamers, you're going to have be faster than that.”

The Hunter chuckled weakly, his humored expression softening when he picked up the scent of the Dream as she leaned over him, a smell that had quickly become a favorite of his. True, there were times when he found it difficult to keep up with those who never seemed to grow tired, and even when they did, all it seemed to take was a quick pop to the Dream to fix that. But it hardly ever dampened his resolve to try, and he was never one to resist a challenge, especially one so lovely.

“I’ll say though, gotta love you Dreamers. That whole never ending stamina…” He quipped with a short whistle, and Pete shot him a peeved glance when the Hunter suddenly gave his leg a nudge with his other foot, not that the look hindered his humor in the slightest. “Even you ex dreamers never seem to lose that,” He added while he waggled his eyebrows.

Pete scoffed and rolled his eyes, choosing not to entertain him and Elizabeth promptly pushed the top of his hat down over his eyes with a smirk.

“Leave the poor man be Tom. This is why he doesn't talk to us anymore.” She spoke sarcastically.

“Is it? Here I thought it was because he was too busy hobnobbing with the higher ranks.”

His sarcasm died when he stiffened with a short hiss when he suddenly yanked the tool from his leg, and Pete held up the mangled bullet for show with a pleasant smile.

“There.”

Elizabeth shook her head with a laugh and dropped a couple of vials into his lap as she patted his shoulder and straightened, and the door suddenly opened again, making even the more distracted of hunters turn their gazes. Most expected the Minister, but instead it was Tommy's who hound ran in excitedly, it's claws clicking over the wood floor rapidly and it was soon followed by Henryk who had opened the door for it after hearing in whining outside.

“Gracie you mutt, come here girl!” Tommy immediately shot out of his chair and a second later the dog all but barreled into him, clearly elated to be reunited with it's owner as it whimpered and wagged it's tail wildly, and he was forced to angle his head away it tried to lick messy kisses onto his face. “You're getting slow girl, I thought I was going to have to go looking for you!"

The Hunter sat on the floor crossed legged and the dog twisted to lie happily in his lap and the others smirked as they began to tend to their weapons once again, finding the sight rather kind.

“Funny trio.” Eileen spoke across from Amélie in regard to the three Powder Kegs, and the blonde sensed she was being genuine.

“Indeed. They strike me as similar to you three.” She remarked, referring to her, Henryk, and the minister currently missing in action. She paused, before adding to that statement. “... Except with more vulgarity, and insults.”

“It's good to have those who will lighten the mood in events such as this.” Djura suddenly chimed in when he joined the two at the table at the Beast Hunters side, hoping that the damage to his Stake Driver wasn't too severe as he laid it out on the table in front of him. “A laugh or two does wonders for morale, especially now. Most have never dealt with such dark times as these.”

“Are they?” Amélie queried calmly, thinking he put a rather bleak view on the situation. Sure the beasts seemed abundant, but it hardly seemed that hopeless to her.

“Perhaps you haven't seen what this outbreak has done to the common folk.” He replied quietly and her eyes moved to watch his hands as he pulled back a metal panel over his weapon while he spoke. “Their very lives have been ripped apart. Some quite literally, sadly... Yes, these are sad times indeed.” He grabbed the lantern set on the center of the table and held it over his weapon for better light. A curious notion came over him and he stated his thoughts lowly as he scrutinized the inner workings of the device, his voice seeming distracted. “But… I suppose, it would not seem so bad to someone who has seen worse?”

Amélie tensed when he unexpectedly spoke so vaguely and she gave him a skeptical sidelong look. He only remained focused on his weapon though, and Eileen glanced up as well and briefly looked between the two across from her, curiously noticing that perhaps he had hit a nerve. The Powder Keg quickly spoke again into the silence between them, not intending for his words to come off as accusational, as they were far from

“If you ever wish to talk of it, I always have a ready ear.”

The offer was far from comforting and Amélie only felt even further wary when he continued to speak as if he suspected something, so she only averted her gaze and picked up her gun, deciding she didn't much care for the hunter's ability to read into people.

“I've no need for a therapist.”

“I meant no disrespect. I only offer help, not judgement.”

“Hmph.” She huffed an almost inaudible cynical laugh, preferring he kept his kindness to himself. It was hard to believe anyone in this city only meant well. “I'm sure.”

She walked away from the conversation, choosing to take a seat near one of the many crates situated in the room just as the yellow Hunter. He sat nearer to the door though, and she had an idea why. It seemed now all there was to do was wait now, and soon she began to wonder what their plan would be if the Church Hunter eventually never showed.

Djura meanwhile glanced up at the Crow with a frown, sensing perhaps he had pressed too far.

“Your partner seems… tense, if you don't mind me saying.”

“Not my partner,” she replied without looking away from her task, “and not my concern.”

Whatever Amélie seemed to guard was far from her business as long as it never interfered with her hunt. They would be parting ways soon enough as it was, perhaps sooner now that there were addled in the area. Her motives in the hunt were a curious thing to ponder perhaps, but in the end they hardly mattered. Every hunter had there own ways an reasons for hunting and at the end of a night all that was truly important was whether the job was done.

The Hunters all became distracted with checking their gear and supplies and the room was soon filled with low spoken conversations and sounds of shuffle, and one by one the they each found places to sit and rest their tired feet. There were little chairs to be found, so most of them took to sitting on the ground, except for the dog who saw fit to leap up into the only seat in the room. No one seemed adverse to letting the hound lie on it, it’s jaw resting over the arm of the chair that seemed much too small for it’s size. Elizabeth and Tommy of course sat side by side, with Pete nearby as they began assessments of the weapon he owned that still seemed to be in it’s prototype stage. The Crow Hunter and Henryk situated themselves near the door, awaiting the arrival of their colleague, while Amélie and Djura both claimed no specific person to hover near, Amélie herself preferring to be near the hazy glass of a window and Djura becoming curious with the charred fireplace across the room. It was a quiet moment of rest that felt long overdue. They had done nothing but move through the city and slay beasts all through the night and even though morning had finally come, there was no time for sleep, only a brief retreat.

The Powder Kegs discussed a number of things in the following minutes. How to reduce the sound of the blast that Pete's weapon possessed, and the growing issue with their struggles to dampen the recoil. Eventually their talks strayed to the beasts and it wasn't until Henryk surprisingly spoke up that the room became more involved in the conversations.

“I know why you burn them, but why do you string them up?” He mentioned after Tommy had offhandedly spoke of the coming task of disposal for the infected area. “It almost looks as if they are put up like trophies. Why not only throw them in piles? Surely it's less work."

“The people are afraid of them, as they should be, but these creatures are just as mortal as the rest of us.” Tommy glanced over at Elizabeth after saying this before carrying on again. “Well some of us anyways. Anyhow, when it came to a point where they could not be slain secretly, it was important to make that clear. Plus some say tacking in such a way purges them of all filth much like the fire, but who knows.”

“Also it makes them feel better when they can throw rock or two at them.” Elizabeth soon added with a bored laugh.

“Perhaps letting people grow comfortable around the beasts isn't the safest way of steeling their nerves.” Eileen said, finding the set up suddenly a little too cozy. She'd wanted a word with Gascoigne before setting out, but twenty minutes past and still no sign of him had her growing restless and the sun would soon be higher in the sky. She continued with the idle chat boredly though, resting the crook of her elbow over her knee and deciding to give him a bit longer. “The general population should be nowhere near the beasts, dead or alive.”

“You don't think we can do our jobs?” Elizabeth challenged coolly as she pulled her Boom hammer into her lap and began to go through her coat for a cloth.

“Oh, your effectiveness is certainly not in question.” The Crow granted her this. The beasts were far from managed but the Powder Kegs were known to go to extremes when pushed, and she was sure they would remain until every last one was gone. “Whether anyone is going to survive your methods though, well…”

Elizabeth donned a pleasant smile as she looked up and Eileen couldn't help but notice that Amélie did the same at times, usually whenever she was about to say something unpleasant.

"Perhaps leave the matter of beasts to the actual hunters."

Eileen brow rose beneath her mask, suddenly finding herself agreeing with Amélie when she had told her the woman could be shockingly abrasive.

"Ignore her," Amélie quickly butted in without taking her eyes off her saw as she cleaned it with a dingy rag she had found, vaguely wondering if the hinges were soon due for some oil. "She has a tongue like a razor blade."

"You would know."

This time Amélie did look up, casting a cross glance to the other side of the room as didn't approve of her discretion, and Tommy chuckled at the remark, shaking his head with a sigh. "Walked right into that one."

Seeing as how everyone seemed to be settling in, apparently growing comfortable with sitting and doing nothing, the blonde found herself impatiently in need of information. Waiting was not something she wanted to do, and at this rate it seemed she would never have a quiet word with Elizabeth.

"Moving on," she began with an even voice, "What do you know of a warehouse east of here?"

"There are quite a few that way." Pete answered her this time, knowing this part of the city better than most. His eyes flickered hesitantly to the fireplace when he heard the scraping sound of a match being lit, but after a brief thought he decided not to speak out against Djura’s intentions. They were hardly going to be there any longer than an hour and a fire seemed little harm at this point. "Have you a specific one in mind?"

"Near the water is what I’ve been told. A fish processing house, or something of that nature. Know of it?"

"Quite well actually. It made a great base of operations for awhile for our runners, but it proved to be too far difficult to properly guard. I imagine it's well abandoned by now.”

She considered this new information for a moment, noticing he hadn't mentioned if they had discovered her mark there. “... Was anyone there?”

“A few men, normal looking blokes doing some shady looking things. Almost seemed as though they were guarding something. We escorted them to the safe house though, the same ones we’re heading to, and they had little qualms with going to safety. Looking for someone?”

“A beast by now probably.” She relented, finding it difficult to keep the grimace off her face at the thought of not having a chance to bury her saw into this particular mark. The possibility of so much wasted time and effort also did not sit well with her.

“Well, hopefully we will find less of those as we press further. I would rather not find the refuge in shambles, and frankly I'm growing tired of running from fights.”

Eileen sat back against the wall and absentmindedly rubbed her ankle as they talked, her mind deep in thought as she began to consider the challenge lying ahead.

Despite the comfort it was probably best to leave soon. The broad daylight couldn't be helped, but she decided now that there was no use waiting until night to work. The longer those hunters were up there the more trouble would be for any who dared to pass through, and the Powder Kegs had no easy way of slaying the beasts without the use of that gun. Especially if said gun was firing down over their heads. Her mind quickly became absorbed into the conversation again though when she became aware of Pete filling them in on the previous state of the city.

"If you think the beasts are severe you should see the people." Pete replied to a statement she had missed, his features dulling considerably as he explained their experiences. "At first they were merely passive, but soon there were riots in the streets, folks demanding answers. When the curfew was put into effect, and the cures stopped working, they took to dawning cloaks and setting out into the night with torches and shouts, damning the Church and rounding up every statue of worship they could find. They spit at even the sight of a Hunter before the beasts began to tear them to shreds. Now they only demand protection.”

“Makes hunting a challenge when the general populace seems to want our blood, and I don't mean to drink.” Tommy further elaborated when Pete grew quiet after this, his eyes distant and cast down at the floor now. “We Powder Kegs were never favored to begin with, but now that the townsfolk have weighed in their sentiments, some are finding it hard to remember why they hunt."

"The people are scared." Djura spoke up quietly, having a different understanding of the situation. He removed his hat and grew comfortable where he sat beside the fireplace, and the orange glow of the low flames flickered shadows onto the walls of the dusty retreat, each silence now filled with the soft crackling of embers. "They haven't the means nor the know how fight as we do, and three months ago the beasts were a story to tell to their kids. Now they fear for their children's lives."

Pete sighed and shook his head. He recognized the man to be far too understanding, and he knew a trait like that could sooner tear a heart to shreds faster than any beast could. "All I'm saying is that the fear makes them foolish. They'd much rather hole up in their homes with their scriptures and worship than trust us to lead them somewhere safe. It's especially difficult to leave them to their own devices when there are children involved... But there is little to be done if a father refuses to spare some of his faith to us."

Djura nodded sadly before quietly agreeing. "...I know what you mean."

The whole conversation was dreadfully saddening but Amélie could not help but to find herself sympathizing almost with those who were apparently cursing the Church's name. It wasn't as if they had the people's best interest in mind anyhow, much less their families best interests. A bit of distrust was certainly understandable.

"Perhaps they are not entirely wrong." She suggested without raising her gaze, speaking almost in monotone. "Even now, after all of this death and chaos, the Church continues to keep talk suppressed, shutting off gates and keeping the town _contained_. No one in their right mind would want to stay here, yet now they have no choice. We hunters above were hardly aware of what has been happening."

"Aye, the Church is quite fond of their gates and withdrawals from anything that becomes too bothersome." Djura concurred, finding much truth in her words, and he reached into a pocket to search for something. "Cainhurst was first proof of that, as long ago as that was."

"Cainhurst was a different matter." Eileen suddenly spoke seriously, breaking her air of silence in the matter for the very first time. "Breaking ties with those blood hungry royalties was no mistake."

"I never said it was," He mused and pulled a pipe from his pocket and began to calmly pack it with tobacco, suddenly very content with the moment of rest and conversation among hunters. "Merely that perhaps we should have seen this coming, given their tendency to cut themselves off from anything disagreeable."

Amélie folded her saw shut, thinking that if the abnormal creaking of the metal proved to be any trouble it could always be taken to the Dream. She stood and muttered something about taking a look around, leaving the conversation to those who further wished to indulge in it, and only two really noticed her departure. Eileen didn't pay her much mind as she walked past her and out the door, and Elizabeth was the only one that truly watched her leave, her eyes lingering on the door even long after it had closed.

"They haven't abandoned us completely remember." Henryk advocated, thinking the Church deserved some recognition at least for what they’d done thus far, rather than what they hadn't surely. "Last I heard they continue to bring supplies and hunters."

"Less so as time goes on." Elizabeth clarified. Her state of mind showed through her actions as she sharply clicked her gun back into place and set it back onto her belt, growing increasingly agitated with the political air being stirred. "But we are still here, and so far the beasts have yet to overwhelm us."

"I don't know doll..." Tommy muttered and removed his hat as well, running a hand through his disheveled brown hair with a tired exhale. "Today has started on a very overwhelming note. We barely made it here in the first place... That's the first time we've been forced to avoid a fight."

A feeling of pity began to set in, but before it could be fully realized Eileen felt a nudge on her arm, and a moment later Henryk spoke quietly from under his mask.

“I’m going to have a walk around the area, see if I can spot him. I feel he should have returned by now.”

“Chances are he’s absorbed in the hunt. He never quite got the concept of passing some beasts by.” She replied almost lightheartedly. “Give him my regards if you do see him. I doubt I’ll be here much longer.”

He said nothing more and shuffled to stand, setting a friendly hand on her shoulder as he did. He paused of course when the dog immediately jumped down from his chair to follow him out, and the Hunter cast a look back at Tom who nodded, gesturing that he didn't mind the dog sticking by him. Henryk of course was delighted the hound chose his company, having already grown fond of the furry companion, and without another word the two left.

He shut the door noiselessly behind him and Tommy turned his sight on her with a humorous tone. “And yet another leaves. I'm beginning to think you Central Yharnamite’s don't enjoy our company.”

“Lower Yharnam has never been much to my liking,” Eileen admitted, an evident smirk in her voice, “The Hunters here always had a bit too much snark.”

She quickly found her number of familiar company at zero so she got to her feet as well, deciding to stand before the creeping sleepless tire could inevitably set in.

“Well, while you're still here, perhaps you could satisfy a few of my curiosities.”

Eileen mouth pulled to the side in slight disfavor as she patted her belt to ensure all of her possessions were still in place, unsure if his wording was meant to cause her distaste. “Depends on the sort.”

“Have you always hunted the addled, or did you merely wake up one day wanting to try something new?”

“I've hunted beasts and addled alike,” She implied, “I’ve been more thoroughly trained in hunting the former though.”

“Ah, the plot thickens. Who knew this city trained assassins.”

“Actually, most of my training was not done in this city.”

“Hmm.” Pete hummed curiously, finding himself growing more interested in the nature of things she was involved in, but choosing to remain on the topic of the bloodthirsty. “We’ve heard the warnings, and the proposed dangers of hunting, but I'll admit I've never seen an addled before this mess. I never gave them much thought actually.”

Eileen nodded, her mind already growing distracted with thoughts of the hunt. “I've kept them controlled thus far.” She alleged as she approached the door and reached for the knob, pausing to finish her farewell first. “And I intend to keep doing my job. You four stay safe, and keep your minds clear. I would hate to see anything happen to those so determined to help this city.”

The door closed behind the last Hunter to leave and Tommy chuckled almost nervously, turning to the others in the room.

“Am I the only one that took that as slightly nefarious…?”

“She seemed sincere.” Djura remarked, finding the odder Hunter far from unnerving. At best she seemed just immersed in her hunt, which considering the state of things was far from a bad thing.

“I say it will take at least five deaths before she clears that tower.” Elizabeth bet as she turned her hammer and Pete merely hummed boredly in response, only wishing the Church Hunter would show sooner.

“You know…” Tommy suddenly droned. “I just can't place it, but… I feel as if I've seen that hunter somewhere before.”

“The Crow Hunter?” Pete asks.

He only nodded his head, seeming deep in thought now as he watched the door.

“Well, I should think that would be an easy memory to recall.”

“Which is exactly why it’s so irritating." He replied and sighed, choosing to let it go for the time being. "Ah well... Say, where did Amélie go?"


	25. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know when you just want to write the exciting stuff, but you also know you gotta also flesh out characters if you want their actions to make more sense? Yeah. In case you don't already know, these things are more fun in your head, when you already know why they are the way they are and don't have to provide evidence for such things, lmao.

"Leaving so soon?"

Eileen came to a halt when she heard Amélie's voice, and she turned to see her standing guard while she leaned against the brick wall beside the door, tapping her gun against her thigh absentmindedly as she appatently kept watch. The Crow stared at her for a moment, not offering an immediate reply. It was clear the Hunter was about to kick up a fuss and she knew exactly why. She also knew she had no intention of entertaining her.

"...I don't have time for this nonsense."

Amélie scowled at her heedlessness and she shot a hand out to grab her wrist when she turned away. No one in their right mind would wander back into that madness willingly, not without help at the very least.

"Eileen, there are two hunters up-"

The Hunter immediately pulled her arm from her grasp and her mask turned back at her in one sharp motion. It was an expressionless movement that still somehow radiated enmity and Amélie quickly released her and drew her hand back, getting the feeling she had crossed some sort of line.

"Three actually," replied Eileen callously, her voice firm, "And If you can manage Amélie, I would like to be seen as your equal. Lord knows I've had enough of that in this city. Enough to last a lifetime."

An expectant silence filled the air for a tense moment and the Beast Hunter's tense expression fell as she took a step back and folded her arms with an accepting nod, leaning against the wall once again as she surrendered to her request. It seemed there was no swaying her and perhaps it was not her place to try, as what she was perhaps trying to say.

“Very well.”

"Splendid," she spoke with a cheeriness far from genuine, "Feel free to press on without me. I trust these hunters will lead you to where ya wish to go. I'I'm sure they would be more than grateful for the help."

With this she turned and briskly walked off, and Amélie watched her with an uneasy feeling for a lingering moment before putting aside the concern and turning to go back inside.

Henryk listened quietly to the exchange, sitting hidden in a narrow doorway not far from where they had stood and waiting patiently in the hopes he would spot his partner roaming the area just outside the gate of the alleyway. He smoothed a hand over the head of the panting dog sitting beside him as her quick footsteps drew nearer, petting it absentmindedly while he considered their odd words, and Eileen almost passed by him completely before she jerked to a stop when she caught sight of him out if the corner of her eye. It had completely slipped her mind that he had left earlier and for a brief second she racked her mind to conclude if she had said anything to clue him in on her mortal state. The moment their eyes locked there was a oddly filled air, a quiet one that suggested perhaps a suspicion between them.

“Good luck out there.” He finally spoke pleasantly after the few strange moments of silence when she only continued to say nothing, and she watched him a moment longer before carrying on without a word. He watched her leave with a heavier mind now, her cape billowing behind her as she made her way towards the alleys end and turned a corner out of sight.

By the time Amélie had gone back inside the room was noticeably empty, save for Elizabeth who was running a cloth over her boom hammer and seemingly deep in thought. Her eyes moved around the dimly lit room unsurely when she paused to enter, and the Powder Keg was quick to speak up when she looked warily about.

"The boys saw fit to clear the area of any lingering beasts," she answered her inner thoughts offhandedly and began to disassemble a compartment at the head of her hammer before checking the furnace inside, "... A couple of other hunters showed up through the back entrance, offered to help them sweep the area. Seems running might have dented their pride just a bit. Or perhaps they are merely itching for a few kills, who knows."

"And you?"

"I figured it was the perfect time for a chat," she said almost lifelessly and finally looked up from the weapon, "Thankfully your new friend seems to have wandered off."

"She went to hunt as well," Amélie confirmed her assumption with a nod as her eyes swept the room, suddenly unsure whether she should sit or remain standing as she closed the door behind her, "So speak your mind."

The dark haired Hunter nodded, and she began to twist the hammer again in her lap as she spoke, forgetting it for a moment.

"There's a minister here, along with his partner and the strange looking one who I assume works under the Church also. That is concerning."

It was no surprised her first concerns were that of the Church, but Amélie had already answered these questions in her mind long before they had managed the chance to finally speak in trust.

"The Minister isn't too high ranking, so there is little cause for worry," She waved off the concern with a simple sentence, but saw fit still to add to her words, "As you can probably tell by the accents, they are not from Yharnam anyways. They've little prejudice."

"You can never be too careful Amélie," She reminded, more worried now that perhaps the Hunter she had known so long was becoming too comfortable among people that on a good day would rather see her gone. It wasn't like her at all to cozy up to those who mingled with the Church. In fact, it was alarming that she suddenly seemed so passive. Perhaps the years had changed her more she’d realized.

“Yes… Well." The blonde rubbed her palms on her the sides of her legs conscientiously and finally decided against sitting, choosing instead to slowly lean against the wall opposite of her and fold her arms. Her eyes flickered around the room as they spoke, ears alert for any signs of eavesdroppers as she spoke lowly. "Even if I was discovered, the Dream is always a method of escape. But if it makes you feel at ease, I'm perfectly capable of cutting ties at the first sign of trouble."

Technically it was the truth. She had done it once before, after the night that Church hunter they encountered at the warehouse had almost taken both of their heads off. Somehow Eileen had managed to find her again, though it would be no surprise if she found out that she had actually shadowed her. It wasn't the Hunter of Hunters that worried her really at this point though, and over time she came to realize that Eileen had little desire to know the details of the lives of hunters she worked with.

This sudden thoughtfulness caused her thoughts to drift back to an earlier time, when Eileen had made the strangely charming comment regarding the color of her eyes as they waited for their coffins to arrive. She had said something else along the lines of "waiting for an answer," and the remark left her quite confused, more so as time went on and the words drifted about in her mind ever so often. Even now she still wasn't sure whether it was truly an expression of interest, or if being alluring was merely an aspect of her personality. It didn't help that she always acted so serene and composed. That is, whenever she wasn't ticked off at what ever it was she didn't approve of in any given moment.

Amélie’s mind suddenly snapped back into the conversation after hearing a muttered reply to previous words, but she assumed it was a statement that warranted no response since Elizabeth said nothing else, merely attending to her weapon quietly. She thought of what to say next, and it didn't take long for her to find something to mention, or rather, someone.

"So. Tommy... Interesting Hunter.”

“What of him?” She offered dully, not surprised at all by the mention of her partner. Amélie noticed though the way a slight smile pulled at her face when she mentioned him by name alone.

"He doesn't dream Elizabeth."

Her grin quickly faded when she pointed this out but her face remained smooth and unbothered so far.

"I'm aware."

"You're playing a dangerous game then." The blonde replied sternly. It didn't matter how handsome the person was. That was a sure way to get hurt. Bad.

"I know the rules as well you do Amélie," She chided with a quickly forming scowl and snapped the weapons latch back into place with a certain degree of annoyance, and her eyes moved back up to her with an almost accusational glimmer. "And don't act like you aren't playing the same game."

"What?"

She threw her a flat expression this time, finding her confusion quite dull. Amélie soon caught onto her meaning though and shook her head, unfolding one of her arms to hold a hand out irritably.

"I'm not- were not-.... It's not like that at all," She settled on with a sigh and a slight dismissive wave of her hand, "It's only a matter of convenience. Once my business is done here, I doubt I'll see hardly a trace of her-… wait. How did you know she doesn't dream?”

“I didn't. Thanks for clearing that up.” She answered aptly and Amélie's mouth pulled into a grimace, having forgotten how easily she could dance around a conversation to find what she wanted. “She fights like one but has surprising self preservation, something most Dreamers grow to abandon over time to an extent. Hard to tell though considering she only smells of incense and hides her face with a mask.” She considered this thoughtfully, mildly curious to know what she truly looked like. “Why does she wear it anyhow? I've never seen an attire like it.”

“I don't know.” Amélie spoke blandly, growing tired of the conversation suddenly. “And keep what you've learned to yourself. She has yet to tell others.”

“Hmph. Pete tried to do the same. I could tell though… Those eyes were certainly not the same blue they once were.” She pointed out and her voice lowered to a mutter. The Hunter had never wanted to leave the Dream in the first place, and the memory of him all but distraught in those first few days suddenly made her bitter. “... Hardly blue at all... I wonder why that happens.” She continued to muse aloud, being one to question such things. “Perhaps it's all that death catching up with us?”

She looked up again as she asked this and Amélie held her gaze before sighing. Strangely unknown questions never much fascinated her in the first place.

“Did you really want to spend this time discussing the odd ways of the dream?”

“Fine, fine.” She relented, but soon found something else certainly piqued her interest and she rose a brow as pressed further. "So a partnership you say?"

"...Yes," She answered her slowly, feeling slightly patronized under the look she was giving suddenly, one that suggested mild disbelief, "I suppose that's a way to put it. Be it short."

"Ha!" Elizabeth suddenly laughed cynically, "You expect me to believe that Amélie Barton, queen of all things solitary, has a partner?" She promptly scoffed and shook her head, looking back down at her weapon again with a disbelieving smirk. "I'll believe that when beasts fly. I think you're may be finally warming up to this town. Fuck, it only took you, what…? Seven, eight years? I don't even know how long it's been at this point.

Amélie's eyes narrowed as she continued to heckle her and she began to see that perhaps civil conversation between them was impossible. "Well I suppose it's a good thing I stopped caring what you think a long time ago."

"Ouch..." She said funnily and scrunched her nose with an adoring expression as she looked up again with a grin, clearly unaffected by the comment. "That's sweet."

Amélie rolled her eyes. It was impossible to intentionally get under the woman's skin. Somehow she only ever angered her when she wasn't trying.

"Honestly… " She muttered and shook her head slightly, averting her gaze. "And Be careful what you wish for. I'd rather the beasts stay on the ground, where they belong.

“Hmph... Well. You seem to have placed a fair amount of trust in her..." She continued, unfazed as ever, yet her voice soon lowered and even she glanced around the room this time. "So. How much have you told her?”

“Nothing important. She’s only figured out I’m not a citizen, and that’s about it. She knows what it's like to come from foreign land though, so thankfully she doesn't ask many questions. Better yet, she doesn't even seem to care much.."

The Hunter nodded slowly, not finding much cause for concern with the Crow as she learned more of her. It was only the Minister she worried about really, but even he seemed more amicable than the average church hunter. And those who spent energy on trying to keep outsiders away from their blood were typically higher ups who knew little of a hunter's life. Most who put their lives on the line to fight the scourge quickly learn that prejudice is irrelevant in the face of a beast. The origin or appearance of a Hunter has always been of little concern to those who depend on each other for survival. It is something those who only ever preached knew nothing of, and the thought alone of such people was enough to make the blood under her skin seethe.

“To think I once never gave the church a second thought,” She stated after a low mutter.

In the past she was never to see fear in the Church's presence. The Church was holy, sacred in it's standing. It brought riches to Yharnam, and provided it's people with blood that could soothe the deepest of desires and cure some of the most horrid illnesses. She held no contempt for them, no, even now despite the morale they seemed to encourage on outsiders. But she knew the consequences of those who were discovered that resided for years without citizenship, especially those that indulged in their precious blood over time. Amélie had made the Church into a conflict of interest the moment she had walked into her life. And it did not matter that Amélie made a point to avoid blood consumption, something she did for personal reasons alone, because even just her existence alone was enough to drive some to anger.

Her brief reflection on these troubles faded when she suddenly found herself curious as to why exactly Amélie was here in the first place. She never wandered far from Central. At least, not if she didn't have to.

“So,” Elizabeth declared softly, setting the butt of the hammer down at her feet and letting the slim handle fall against her shoulder where it stayed now, “What brings you here then? Surely it’s not me.”

“A beast I was tracking slipped through here. Still a man the last time I saw him, but… He may be nothing more than teeth and fur now. I'm beginning to think it's a long shot, finding him at this next refuge."

She was even beginning to think that pursuing him was a mistake altogether but, there was nothing to be done of that now and at the very least she had acquired a hefty amount of echoes for her troubles. That was worth something at the very least.

"Heh, well, that sounds like you. Never could let things go easily."

"Gee, thanks." She spoke sarcastically and pushed off the wall, suddenly feeling very anxious with the coming conversation. "But _my_ reasons for being here are not all that important..." She paced towards the door, feeling anxious suddenly as she began to turn a ring under her gloved finger with her other hand. "There are other things to talk of."

"Such as?"

“I never intended to cross paths with you, but Artemis convinced me to speak with you, to make sure you’re alright I suppose. Everything that came after has just been convenience.”

“I was getting to father next," She stated quietly, her gaze moving down to the floor where it stayed, “The Church is cracking down pretty heavily on what been getting through the gates over the past few weeks, which is why my letters stopped. I’m surprised you were able to get here in the first place. I get the feeling he had something to do with that, eh?”

She didn't respond heartily to the quip, not wanting their mood to grow light just yet. “You should probably know something,” Amélie began reluctantly, and Elizabeth's eyes snapped up when her mind automatically assumed the worst.

“Someone came looking for you?”

“What? No-, no, not that. It’s been years Elizabeth, I doubt anyone is still has an interest in finding me.”

She nodded her head slowly and her uneasy gaze lowered again, awaiting her words. Amélie drew a quiet breath before continuing, feeling her chest grow heavy.

“His memory is getting worse as time goes one. His work is unaffected of course, unshockingly, and the doctor has said that the focus he places into his calculations is probably what has kept him sharp for this long," She paused for a moment before going on, her mind thinking back to scattered events that all pointed towards the signs of something being dreadfully wrong, "But there are times, I think, when he forgets who I am. Once in awhile, I’ll hear him call me by your name when he gets distracted, or he’ll bring up some memory which clearly involved you and not me. It’s rare, but it’s happened. And on more than one occasion now.”

The silence that followed this made her uneasy, and Amélie bit her lip and continued to restlessly fiddle with the ring, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. It wasn’t tiring watching someone she cared for deteriorate. Only painful.

“I’m not saying I’ve grown tired of it... I don’t mind giving the time of day to him, god knows I owe-”

“You do not owe anyone anything Amélie, I thought we made that clear to you long ago," Elizabeth huffed and stood up, her declining mood making her suddenly restless, “And what has the doctor said of treatment?”

“Treatment?” Amélie spoke skeptically.

“What of blood? Surely he’s done enough work for the Church that he’s eligible for some remedy?”

“He’s not sick, Elizabeth," Amélie uttered quietly when she failed to understand, “He’s only old.”

She stared quietly for a few moments when she spoke this truth before she slowly nodded, her expression growing even bleaker when she suddenly found herself torn between the hunt and personal obligation.

“Perhaps, when the beasts are finally slain… I should come home.”

“Yes. You should." She replied, feeling relief now despite of the dreary topic of her father's declining health. She was thankful she understood that time was perhaps growing shorter, and come the next few years the kindly weaponsmith may not even be the same person he is now. He always seems cheerier whenever Elizabeth was around, and that's really all she wanted. "I’m sure your group can manage without you for some time.”

She shook her head bitterly, not finding much truth in her words. Slowly she sat back down and began to turn the hammer against her shoulder absentmindedly again.

“The powder kegs are not what they used to be,” Elizabeth admitted, “Once I found no issue with every order given to me but now… There are some who hold some rather distasteful opinions on how to deal with the beasts, more of us than I’d like to admit. And by beasts, I mean the sickly folks who’ve yet to turn. Tommy and Pete are two of the few Hunters that have not been changed by time, or the hunt. And well… Edmund too. But now that he’s dead, I don't see a many people giving their respect so easily to the new commander. He was around for a long time, longer than most. Losing him… was bad. It may not seem like it yet, but that is going to have some very grave consequences in the future. I know it.”

“That's all very… Troubling.” Amélie spoke with an intended degree of earnesty.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you don't give a shit, ” She wrote off the reply with a side to side motion of her head, "... So, what did he do?”

“...Who?”

“You said you were after a beast who was man when you met him. Must have done something pretty shitty if it pissed you off enough to come anywhere near me.”

Amélie frowned, not enjoying how much she overstated their dislike for each other. She answered anyways though, seeing no reason to be anything but honest with her.

“He had a few drinks, took a bite out of my neck, and shoved a knife into my side,” She spoke evenly, her face darkening at the hazy memory, “Guess I'm just what you would call a disagreeable person. Seems everyone that gets to know me wants to stick a blade in me at some point."

“…Well, fuck.” She muttered, her brows raising for a moment, “Let me know when you find the bastard and I’ll help you gut him myself... And this Hunter is helping you track this man?”

“She Already did. It’s how I knew to come here in the first place. We met through… an unfortunate set of circumstances. Which led to more, unfortunate circumstances. It was quite the adventure. We were almost demolished by a church hunter at one-”

“ _What_?” She suddenly stood up swiftly, her hammer forgotten now as it fell against the chair and Amélie suddenly realized she should have kept that to herself. “...Tell me you're not serious.”

Amélie's mouth pulled into an unwilling frown as she refrained from answering, never one to have a quick tongue when it came to finding excuses.

“I _thought_ you were capable of not being a fucking idiot Amélie, what were you thinking?!”

“It’s not as if I walked up to the Church's door and said, here I am, come chop my head off!” Amélie growled back with just as much spite, growing impatient with her insistence on obsessing over every detail of her life while not bothering to take any more part in it. “The hunter came out of nowhere, clearly we came across something they were hiding.”

“I don't give a shit about whatever shady activities the church is doing- god, it's almost like-” she rubbed a hand over her face in an exasperated way and Amélie's scowl deepened even further, as she didn't enjoy being scolded like a child by her, of all people. “It’s almost as if you're trying to get locked away!”

“I already told you-”

“Which is what will happen if they find out about-”

“ **I know,** Elizabeth! I am the last person that needs to be reminded about this, _believe me_.” She snapped harshly and glanced around anxiously. It wasn't the best place for an argument but if she insisted on one, she could hardly back down. “Stop bringing this shit up while there's a hundred other hunters around. Not to mention there's a Minister here now, and I’d rather that Crow not find out that I’m a wanted criminal!” She paced to the side with a fierce breath, trying to form her irritation into words that could describe just exactly what it was that bothered her so much every time they so much as talked these days. ”... Just because I’m not welcome here doesn't mean you have to remind me every _five seconds!_ ”

She stilled when she said this and Elizabeth stood in silence for a tense moment before she nodded and folded her arms, her anger vanishing quicker than usual 

“...I’m sorry.” She finally conveyed tiredly with a simple surrendering shrug. Amélie's eyes widened when she felt a reasonable amount of shock. She was never the sort to turn a debate around so submissively. “It seems all we do is argue anymore... I don’t enjoy it.”

Amélie watched her skeptically, wondering if perhaps she was forcing this apparent regret. She could see by the expression on her face as she stared off to the side that she certainly seemed saddened. Despite her annoyance though her irritation quickly gave way to guilt, and she found herself also tiring from the agreements as well. Causing hurt was never her intention and she rolled her eyes slightly, an expression directed more at herself as she pushed off the wall. She walked over to her and raised her hands to the lopsided ribbon around her neck and began undoing it.

“You would think after all these years you would have learned how to tie a proper bow.” She scolded in a murmur as she began to loop the thin blue strip between her fingers and set about the task of tying it proper.

Elizabeth watched her skeptically at first, but her face quickly softened when she said this.

“Guess I’m just used to having you do it for me.”

As she tied the strip Amélie became increasingly aware of the stare fixed on her and the blonde’s eyes soon flickered up to see her looking down at her, the corner of her pink lip pulled up into a small smile. Amélie's mouth immediately set into a firm line to fight off the forming smirk that began to pull at her lips as well and she shook her head and looked back down at the bow to avoid her gaze.

“Enough with that look.” She muttered after a few seconds of this, her own grin finally breaking through though despite her efforts to quell it.

“What look?” She feigned innocence, something Amélie didn't buy for one second.

“You know what look.” She reprimanded, fastening the neat bow tightly and choosing to adjust her collar momentarily as well before she dropped her hands, admiring her handiwork with a pleased nod.

“I’m not used to seeing you with your mask on for so long.” She remarked and suddenly reached for her face, and Amélie’s smile instantly faltered and she felt an oddly excruciating pull in her chest when she drew her mask down with her thumb to study her face. If this wasn't worse enough, she felt a warm touch on her face when she placed her hand on her cheek gently. “In fact, I’ve hardly had a proper look at you.”

She felt sudden panic when she found herself suddenly craving the comfort it brought and Amélie sighed and grasped the gloved hand on her cheek and slowly pulled it down.

“Please. Don’t do that,” She spoke dully, and Elizabeth's tender expression was quickly sullied by a frown when she pulled away, “Don’t start acting so kind. Remember, you’re the one who left.”

“Huh. Well from my point of view, you’re the one who didn’t come with.”

Amélie released her hand and took a step back, scolding herself silently. The damn ribbon should have been left alone. “And do what, join the Powder Kegs? You already know how I feel about that. Even now, I’m uneasy about all of this. You know me well enough, I didn’t come here to get swept up into joining an army of hunters.”

“We’re always looking for new recruits.” She suggested with a hope filled twist of her brow and a soft smile, and Amélie quickly felt anger again when she all but ignored her words. This was exactly why nothing good ever lasted between them. “Now more than ev-”

“I told you already, _I’m_ _**done** _ _taking orders!”_  

Elizabeth’s eyes immediately shifted to look around the room in a small panic when she rose her voice again, this time though much louder than she had done before. “Alright!” She whispered harshly and held her hands up to keep her calm. “Keep your voice down.”

The Powder Keg shook her head and huffed, running a hand anxiously through her hair. “...You’ve made your point. Enough.”

The moment was clearly lost and she turned with another shake of her head and walked over to the table with torn boxes of bullets and empty vials, and the way her hands pushed aside the rubbish sharply expressed her irritation well. Amélie only stood and watched silently, studying her agitated state while she waited for her to inevitably try to have the last word, as she always did.

“You might fool others, but to me you might as well be an open book Amélie,” she snapped coldly as she pushed aside an empty glass and swiped a few stray bullets into her hand, “You came here for your own damn reasons, and now you're suddenly stuck somewhere you’d rather not be, dealing with things you'd rather not... Sound familiar?”

Amélie only remained quiet when she suddenly dared to bring up the past, hoping her silence expressed that she was nowhere near appreciative of the remark.

“It isn't as if there is a city dying around us.” She continued on with her rant “...Have you ever stopped to think that maybe there is more to this hunt than your own problems? Perhaps if you would stop to give a damn for more than three seconds, you might find that there are people in need here.” 

“If this city is finally dying, that is hardly my concern.” Replied Amélie coldly, her mouth barely speaking without a second thought. “If you ask me, perhaps it is long overdue.”

Even with her back turned, Amélie could tell that she visibly stiffened. She said nothing for a long moment and the silence itself began to tell her that she had maybe gone a bit too far.

“To think that just came out of your mouth.” She marveled and shook her head before turning to look at her with clear intention to hurt. “You might as well still be on the blood.”

Amélies expression quickly grew lethal when she willingly crossed this line but just as she opened her mouth to speak the sound of the door being pushed open made her fall silent, and she felt a twinge of worry when it seemed that could very well be their last words if she was force to walk away.

"Ah, miss Barton.” The Ministers voice was heard, the Hunter seemingly back from his unfortunate death, and the hunters heads both turned towards the door, replying in unison with the word, "Yes?" 

Gascoigne raised a brow, his hand lingering on the doors knob as he looked between them. "... Oh. Kin, I take it?"

Elizabeth's face flickered between the two with a newfound look of disgust, and Amélie suddenly remembered their first meeting and the name she had claimed. It took a lot of self control not to slap a hand over her face.

“No, we certainly do not share blood.” Elizabeth spoke dubiously, giving Amélie a questioning look.

“...Partners then?” He reiterated, wondering if he had perhaps somehow missed this detail.

“No,” Amélie spoke up now, mentally kicking herself even harder. How hard could it have been to choose a different last name? “We are family... Just not by blood.”

"Ah... Well, anyhow, I was wondering if either of you have seen Henryk?"

Elizabeth turned and leaned the small of her back against the tables edge, folding her arms with a pleasant smile. "Last I heard, he went out looking for you. I'm sure he's not far."

The minister gave a polite nod. "I'll leave you two to your business then."

With that he backed out of the room and the door shut once again, and Amélie spoke first before she could.

“I may have claimed Art's last name.” She spoke regretfully and put a hand over her face, pinching her nose tiredly. “He all but insists I do so, and it doesn't help that he always gets this damn glimmer of pride in his eyes every time I do. That, and the fact that every regular in the shop calls me Miss Barton.”

“Brilliant. The last thing I want is people thinking is that _we_ are related.” She spoke with a humorous air of disgust and a short laugh at the absurdity of it all. She pushed off the table walked towards the door, stopping just at her side to give her arm a light nudge. “Good one…”

She paused and there was a flicker of regret in her eyes as she looked over at the door and then back at her. “And about earlier... I shouldn't have gone there. Forgive me.”

Amélie nodded and averted her gaze back to the cluttered table, finding forgiveness an all too easy thing to give when it came to her. “Of course.” She sighed and pushed her hands into her pockets. As easily as these fights always started, they had a knack for unwinding as well.

Elizabeth smirked, looking at the door as she talked. “Just remember, day by day." She patted her shoulder in a supportive manner, her hand stopping to rest on it as she spoke on. "You're doing well. And if this vendetta keeps your mind off things, I have no issue with it. Just give some thought though, before you're too hasty to leave. There are things happening here that will not be resolved easily... And perhaps, I am not the only one who wishes to see you stay.”

The hand over her shoulder squeezed for a brief moment before it fell and she walked out the door as well.

Amélie stood alone, feeling more bleak than encouraged. And due to their talk now the dry feeling of thirst in the back of her mind felt much more prominent suddenly, something that never really went away. It only really faded when she was met with distractions and even then she knew it could never truly be gone.

* * *

 

"My, My, your'e getting lazy," Gascoigne chided with a grin and held a hand out to Henryk. "Couldn't be bothered to walk the streets?"

"I may be getting lazy," He retorted, frowning when he felt an ache in his back as he took his hand to stand, "But your sight is getting worse. You passed me by without so much as a glance."

"Perhaps you could have bothered to speak up," The minister remarked with a wry chuckle before observing, "It seems Eileen has run off again. It's a wonder she manages to sit still for more than a minute sometimes."

"Hmm, yes... Actually I was hoping we could have a chat about her."

Gascoigne nodded, patting a hand over his back in a manner he probably thought gentle. "Come. I spotted a few beasts not far from here. Perhaps we can talk on the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it seems like there is some sort of unwritten history between Elizabeth and Amélie, well, ha! You'd be wrong because story is in fact long written and finished. There is actually a LOT of written stuff that takes place before any of this, focusing purely on Amélies arrival in Yharnam and her adjustment to the city all those years ago, but I doubt those chapters will see the light of day any time soon really, and if they do, it will be long after this story is done, since it has details I'd rather avoid mentioning for the time being. Maybe one day I'll further edit and post it, who knows.  
> Ugh, these chapters are droning on though, enough fleshing out already, less talk, more act!!! Go, go, go!  
> 


	26. Distractions

Hell was a thing many people described, in different measures by different experiences. Like most hunters, Eileen had taken the return trip many times. It was never found though in the blood soaked snarling of beasts, or the suffocating claws of prey.

She’d seen it too many times, staring back at her through the apathetic eyes of hunter once kind, once warm, once noble. She saw it in that glint of humanity that shines just in the behind the glassy irises of a mark, a light that no doubt does not even exist. The mind always played tricks like this when it came to the hunt, trying to recognize a familiar gleam in even the most lethal of creatures. It seemed no matter how much of a killer one could become, it was only natural for a person to search for humanity in even the darkest of places. She liked to think that maybe it was one of those things that kept the mind sane, that helped those drenched in blood and filth to retain their sanity.

Avoiding the beasts had been a task in itself but she was determined in her choice not to share the company of a Hunter this time, having little need for a beast hunter when she had no intention of killing the beasts anyways. Staying off the ground wasn't difficult in this city. It had been built to fit within a location nowhere near suitable for structures but against the odds it had been done, resulting in an oddly designed town that seemed to give way to narrow streets and hidden passages, all winding above underground canals and pathways. It helped immensely in avoiding the beasts and even the abnormal ones that sometimes seemed to scamper up the side of buildings and leap from roof to roof in a frightening way weren't difficult to shake if one was quick enough.

She pressed on through a church beside the tower in question, seeing a bridge that connected the two buildings far above the ground, and she sensed a way around the beasts that surrounded the only ladder that lead directly up the tower. The church itself was massive, and empty as well, a vast building that on most days would be bustling with holy men and women, worshipers ready to say their daily prayers and drink from sacred blood. The lingering smell of burning incense must have warded away the beasts as there were none to be seen inside. Her assumption was proven right and from here on she was relieved she could now work without the threat of distractions.

She craned her head as she walked past an altar holding an untouched chalice of sacred blood, seeing the catwalks  far above her that stretched across the room. The church seemed mostly untouched and eerily silent, save for the repetitive dripping of oil falling from a jar near one of the catwalks above that echoed throughout the vast space. Her cautious trek led across the stone floor of the chapel and up a set of stairs across the room, and eventually towards a window she was confident would turn onto the bridge she had spotted earlier. Her pace came to a halt though when she heard rasped breathing, and she lingered just to the side of the broken window for a moment as she determined whether the sound was human or beast. The breathing stopped suddenly, and she continued to remain silent into the following silence.

"I know your'e there." A mans voice croaked suddenly, and her head snapped up when she recognized the sound of human speech. 

She quickly rounded the corner to find a Hunter sitting slumped against the side of the rickety bridge, his middle heavily stained with fresh blood and his face deathly pale, and she threw a wary glance up the final ladder leading to he towers top before kneeling before him.

"Keep Quiet." She whispered and reached for her last precious vial of the most potent blood she owned. Had she given more than three seconds of thought she might have been bitter to see it go as she jammed it into his thigh, but his wounds seemed much too sever to chance leaving them to heal with less urgent blood, and the man seemed close enough to death as it was.

"It doesn't matter," Mumbled the Hunter who seemed to be a Powder Keg upon closer inspection, and he lifted his head lethargically for a moment before he could hold it no longer, his head dipping again as he continued drearily, his state clearly one of languid confusion. "They hear us... They just wait though. He never comes down, no matter how much I beg... It's all they ever do now."

"I know, I know," She spoke in a low soothing voice and gently put her palms of her gloves on both sides of his face to lift his head again. His brown eyes cracked open for the first time and she could see tears in them when they did, making her wonder just how long he had been sitting here waiting to die. She was well aware already that her marks knew they were there, waiting patiently for one of them to attempt a climb. Even in the most blood addled of Hunters was a cunning and calculative mind, one only used for means of more blood, and if one of them tried to engage first it would only make the fight that much easier. No, she knew they had every intention on staying in a position they though superior, but as much as fear could so easily grip one in this moment she knew that dwelling on the creatures above could only lead to inaction. "Do ya know your way back to a refuge?"

"My brother... My own brother..." He only continued to speak despondency, ignoring her question entirely, and for a moment she considered leaving the delirious Hunter where he lay and coming back for him once the job was over. His hand moved to grip her arm though, and she didn't posses a cold enough heart to pry it off just yet. His speech quickly began to improve, as sluggish as it sounded and she felt in his grip that his strength began to return to him as well. "I don't know what came over him, He just started-  _hacking away_ at the others, and the other joined in, and I... It all happened so fast I-, I just ran. But then the beasts came, drawn by the screams. I couldn't go down, nor up, there was nowhere to-"

"Hunter, calm down," She urged, and thankfully he drew a shaky breath and fell quiet, nodding his head as he closed his eyes to compose himself. Before she could speak though that quickly snapped open again, as if his sharpened awareness had suddenly reminded him that there was something at stake.

"Please, I will be alright, just get him help." His hopeless tone quickly took to that of begging and she felt his grasp over her arm shake suddenly as his expression became heavy with despair. "He'll never forgive himself for this, I know it, but please, I beg of you, take him away from this. He needs to be away from this blood, then he will see, I'm sure of-"

She offered no reply this time, only throwing a wary glance to the top of the ladder as she determined the best way to answer him without revealing her true intentions. The chance to speak though didn't come, for he quickly made sense of her sudden quiet and the very reason she had happened upon him in the first place.

“Oh god…” He uttered aloud as he stared at the lifeless mask before him. “You're going to kill him.”

“...I'm sorry. Nothing can be done for him.” She spoke earnestly and put her hands on his shoulders when his despair ridden gaze wandered away from her. She saw when he averted his gaze how the small semblance of light he still possessed in his weary stare suddenly vanished and his eyes suddenly grew vacant in a way that only made her voice strain with more hope. “ _You_ can still live though... There is a refuge a couple of blocks from here. Do ya know of it?”

He only shook his head and let it fall again, and a quiet bitter laugh left his lips before he began to murmur to himself.

"Ode to the scourge. Ode to death. Ode to a swift end. It never comes..." His gaze suddenly rose again when he remembered her presence, and Eileen wasn't sure what to make of the horribly empty look in his face. "But you dreamers know that more than others, do you not?"

She had hardly thought to offer a reply before he spoke again and her attention was quickly diverted from his next words when she heard the shrill rumble of gunfire above them.

“But I don’t pity you lot. I envy you. Oh how I envy you.”

His arm moved much too quickly for her to realize what he was about to do and a sharp explosion suddenly assaulted her ears, causing her to reel backwards with a gasp when he pulled the trigger of the pistol he had been holding at his side. His head snapped to the right almost instantly and the man slumped to the side just as her back slammed against the bridges wooden rail opposite of him, making her breath leave her lungs for a brief moment. The blast momentarily drowned out the sound of the gunfire above them, but the sound soon seeped through her shock, and became even more apparent when it suddenly stopped not long after this.

After many dulled seconds of staring she slowly reached back to place a hand on the wood behind her and used it as support to push herself to her feet, and she gazed down at the body for many seconds longer before approaching the tower, and with a new found resolve she stood before the last ladder and began to climb.


	27. What's the Use of a Puppet, If it can't be made to dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any potential typos or miswordings thus far. I try to keep my stories free from that sort of thing, but to be honest I've never been too good at proofreading! On the same note, feel free to point out any mistakes or whatnot. I don't mind at all.

There was a serene scent in the air, as there always was in the Dream. A scent that clung to a light breeze and caressed the pale white flowers of the small sanctuary, carrying their soothing smell throughout the cool air. It was a soft wind that gently caressed the face and tickled the cheek with strands of softly swayed air, and the scented flora was an aroma like no other, one that admittedly took some getting used to at first, but Eileen found such peace in it.

“What is so amusing, hunter?” The Doll stood idly where she always did, her curiosity piqued when she heard a faint laugh as the Hunter took a step back while tapping a finger against her blade, her eyes straying over the choice of headstones from beneath het mask as she considered choosing another lamp. It didn't seemed wise to return to a waiting slaughter anyhow.

“Oh, just a Hunter who has managed to consistently bury his axe into me for the past two days. I barely made it back to the lamp this time before he caught up to me. Which is a relief since I had run out of vials... The look on his face though when he watched me disappear,” Eileen said with another chuckle, uncharacteristically smitten with the turn her less than appealing hunt had been taking, and the Doll wondered how such a thing could be amusing. “No doubt he still waits for my return.”

“I see. That’s… Good?”

“Lord no. I’m dead the moment I step out there.”

“Oh.”

Eileen said nothing farther after this. With an approving hum she finally chose her destination, and spared a friendly look back to the Doll as her hand reached for the stone.

“Wish me luck.”

The darkly dressed Hunter gradually vanished and the Doll watched the empty space thoughtfully.

"Good luck."

The Hunter returned to the Dream twice more to retrieve vials, both times being much quieter than she had been earlier. The third time the Doll could sense the echoes she carried with her and it told her immediately that she had been triumphant in her hunt.

She waited patiently for her arrival, but the moment she appeared Eileen only stood motionless where she had come to stand, a quiet moment passing while she merely stared ahead at nothing. It was after these passing seconds she slowly removed her mask and pulled down her hooded hat. The wooden mask dropped to the ground beside her boot, and it was left there on the soil when she walked up the steps to the workshop and disappeared into the room. She didn't stop to offer a warm greeting as she normally did, nor did she express any interest in exchanging the echoes.

The Doll stood quietly for another few minutes before she finally moved to the farthest gravestone, slowly kneeling to pick up the beaked mask. She held it in her still puppet like hands as she turned and gazed at the wooden doors of the workshop, her gaze almost like that of a child unsure of what to do with an item that didn't belong to them. With most hunters she had learned that comfort wasn't always something one needed. More often than not, the humans came to the dream for peace and solitude. She couldn't help though the urge to care for them, to see to it their minds were eased, and after a bit more thought she finally walked up the steps as well, pushing the door open and approaching the silent Hunter. She had busied herself with cleaning her pistol, the pieces lying disembodied on the tables surface beside the fire. An audible tune of music played as well, a small device on one of the tables turning slowly and producing a soothing tune that interested the Doll.

She set the object near the tables corner and the Hunter's movements slowed as her gaze flickered to it, until her eyes became fixed on the wooden mask, and eventually her hands lowered, the task momentarily forgotten.

"...Was he a Dreamer?" Eileen finally spoke up quietly after a considerable silence.

"Yes."

The Crow Hunter nodded and tore her eyes away from the lifeless mask, busying herself with the task in front of her once again.

Despite his lack of sanity though, Eileen knew the Dream would hardly suffer the loss of his remaining echoes. In the end the Dream always acquired them, one way or another. No doubt they rested within her blood now just waiting to be exchanged, and suddenly she found herself repulsed by the very idea of trading them. All she wanted right now was a moment of peace, something to do with her hands, and a nice sound to focus on.

The Doll turned to look at the source of the music, a phonograph lying on the wooden table in front of one of the bookshelves. She listened to the notes for a quiet moment as she considered the sounds. It was a lovely tune, slow paced yet cheery in it's own way, though the rhythm was accompanied by occasional noises of scratchy static and interference, and it made her wonder what the music could truly sound like when it wasn’t trapped onto a stretched wax surface. Regardless of its imperfections though, it was one of the more enjoyable things that a Hunter had brought from the waking world, and she found it quaint the way the music faintly trickled out into the flowered surroundings of the small workshop.

"It is not often Hunters bring music with them..." She pondered curiously after some time, finding it easy to voice her thoughts in the silence.

"Do ya like it?"

The Doll nodded.

"I'll leave it then," She offered and clicked one of the pieces of her weapon back into place, "If you're going to stand around, ya might as well have something to dance to," She added, and soon gave weak chuckle, finding the image quite funny. A Doll dancing alone among pale flowers. It seemed like a picture worthy of a painting, if only she had such a talent.

"That is very kind, but I do not know how."

The Crow's hands came to a sudden stop again when she heard this and she tilted her head towards her, her frown and slightly arched brow suggesting disbelief. “Of all of the Hunters who have passed through here, not one has taught ya how to dance?”

She simply shook her head.

The pistol fell immediately from her hands and clattered to the table, completely forgotten now.

“Well that is just unacceptable.” She decided aloud and turned to the tall being, holding out a hand with a more determined look now.

The Doll regarded it curiously before unclasping her hands and moving one to grasp it. “This is an odd time to be shaking hands,” She remarked as she took it hesitantly.

Eileen rolled her eyes when she said this, but couldn't help the grin that spread on her face at the foolishness.

"It’s part of the dance."

“I see," She conceded almost regretfully as Eileen released her hand and motioned for her other one, "I’m afraid I am not going to be very good at this.”

“Don't worry, it will be easy. I’ll lead. Just follow my feet.”

The Doll studied carefully as she directed her free hand lay on the Hunter's arm just below her shoulder before the Crow stepped forward to place her hand lightly on her side. Eileen looked up now that they were in order and she snickered as she raised their clasped hands to shoulder level and straightened her own posture, suddenly coming to realize just how short she was compared to the pale being. “In an actual dance you would probably be the one leading, given your uh-... Height.” She settled on with a well meaning smile.

The Doll nodded, wondering if this was anything like a game of chess, which she had been taught also contained a specific method to be followed until the game's completion. "...Is this a rule?"

"There are exceptions," She answered, not bothered at all by the curiosities. To the contrary, she found them rather endearing, and had no qualms with taking the time to answer her questions. It wasn't every day a doll could be taught to dance after all. "Dancing is typically a fluid thing, meant to be enjoyed. Perhaps the higher class ya are, the more it becomes tied to strict social rules and etiquette.”

"I see."

“Now,” Eileen announced more cheerily, “Do as I do.”

She waited a few moments until the music felt just right before taking a step back with a pleasent nod, and the two immediately separated when the Doll took a step back as well, mimicking her movements exactly.

The Crow snickered and promptly stepped forward again, making sure to make her words clearer as she guided her back into position. “What I should have said, is follow my lead,” She further explained with a smirk, “So, when I step-” she elaborated by taking a smaller step back, and she beamed more warmly and nodded with approval when the Doll caught on to her meaning and moved in unison. “Exactly. You're a natural.”

“I merely copied what you did.”

“And that's how people learn,” She assured her and led her again, and the Doll quirked her head as they moved, taking note of the odd word she used.

“People?”

“Uh-huh,” She hummed, her gaze distracted now with watching their feet. The Doll picked up rather fast, and talked now without seeming to concentrate on where she stepped as they swayed, as if the movements had suddenly become second nature. She had a knack for mimicking, and Eileen wondered how such a skill could hold in the face of the hunt. She quickly pushed the idea from her mind though, a bit bitter suddenly that her mind could never stray far from bloodshed. A kindly Doll had no place in such a brutal task.

“Do you think me as people, Hunter?”

“If you mean do I see ya as a person, then yes.” She spoke simply, as if the answer were obvious. The Hunter turned elegantly and so did the Doll, her dangling tattered cape swaying as they moved, and she found herself quite impressed with how human her movements had become, so much so that for a moment she forgot she was dancing with a puppet. Eileen's silence that followed her words lingered for a moment before it dawned on her that perhaps there was a reason she had asked such a thing. “...Does that seem strange?”

"No." She answered, and the reply left Eileen a little confused as to her reasons for asking.

Nothing more though was said of the matter though and the Doll only watched her face silently now as they moved, seeing she seemed to be enjoying the progress she had made so fast as she studied her feet, the Hunter's smile fading perhaps as time went on, but never quite leaving now. She much preferred the expression she now wore to the sullen silences that sometime plagued her. Even in her sadness, she noticed the Crow always seemed gracious. Quiet perhaps, but still, always kind. Though most hunters were also good to her as well, there were some who saw the Dream as something separate from reality, rather than it’s own tangible existence, and they used this reasoning to justify many things. There were few who possessed endless anger it seemed, some who did as they pleased, and some who allowed blood consume them further and further until one day they never set foot in the Dream again, or were forced to be cut free from it when they proved to be ineffective after enough time.

None of these things of course wavered her affections for those who slayed the beasts. The Hunters of the Dream were her’s to look after, and she did so happily. And the times that this love was returned- times like this- almost made her feel as if there was some truth to a sensation that some humans described, a swelling in the chest where a heart should be.

There was a peacefulness in the air now, a stark contrast to the bloodied nights and dark hunts back in the waking world that Eileen endured. A soft smell of flowers, an enjoyable tune, and kind company. It was a moment that Eileen knew she would draw on for comfort in the future, perhaps even long after she left this haven, but for the meantime she didn't dwell on the future, choosing instead to focus on the music and the way the Doll almost seemed to have a smile on her face, if that were even possible.

The music suddenly came to a stop and so did the Doll and her Hunter, and Eileen released her hand and beamed, putting a more casual distance between them as she took a step back.

"Well, I think ya picked that up rather fast."

“That is all you do?”

“Well, not entirely. That is a very basic introduction,” She began as turned back to the table and began to quickly reassemble her pistol so she could put it back onto her belt, “Typically there is better music, and more instruments. The gist is that you move your body in response to the rhythm,” she further explained to her and decided to walk over to the phonograph to stop the repetitive white noise that had replaced the tune. “There are many different types of dancing, but a waltz can cover most ballroom tastes.”

"Have you been in a ballroom before?"

"...Technically yes,' She emphasized ambiguously, her lips setting into a firm line as she recalled a time once when a mark and her had fallen through a windowed roof into the middle of a jovial dance. Luckily no one else had been hurt, but the same couldn't be said for the tables they had landed on. "...Those events aren't as romantic as they're typically made out to be though.” She added in muttered distaste. “Stuffy and crowded.”

The Doll titled her head in the curious manner she typically did when she was about to ask a question but oddly enough her words were inaudible, though the Crow was sure she had spoken.

“Come again…?” She asked with a deepening frown when something began to feel off.

The harsh light of the sun suddenly assaulted her eyes and Eileen gasped in a panic when the blaring daylight blinded her painfully and made her squeeze them shut again. The comforting and almost lucid recollection vanished in an instant, replaced by a brilliantly blazing morning sun that she was sure had not been that high in the sky just moments ago, and she jerked forward from her rest and covered her eyes, shaking her head in an attempt to rid the discomfort caused by the light before her eyes gradually adjusted. For a fleeting moment she had lived as if the Dream were still waiting for her, but the drab reality that was a beast plagued Lower Yharnam quickly came crashing back down onto her, accompanied by the stench of blood and other foul smells from the corpses around her, along with a searing pain in her shoulder that had been slowly bleeding out. Despite the morning sun the air was still chilly somehow, cold enough that she could see the puffs of air forming into mist on the alarmed breaths escaping her mask as she sat and collected her thoughts.

She silently berated herself and stiffly pushed off the tiled structure she’d been resting against, feeling an aching pain in her shoulder as she slowly lowered her arm to place it flat on the ground. It was an idiotic mistake to take a rest after the fight, and it didn't take much thought before she realized that she had drifted off not long after sitting, the past trials of the last sleepless nights finally catching up to her. She checked her watch anxiously, and felt relief when she saw that no more than an hour had passed since she'd began her ascent up the tower. Luckily her mind possessed enough awareness to awaken itself from its sleep despite her lethargy, but even so, she took no comfort in dozing off in the field, finding it an utterly foolish way to wind up dead.

With a bitter sigh she reached around herself to grab a tool off her belt, not seeing much point in dragging out the coming process.

She rolled her injured shoulder with a slight wince and steadily raised the long pointed pair of shears to the rip in the fabric. It wasn't difficult to find the entrance wound, and she took a moment to steel herself before prodding the cold metal tip into the torn skin. The painful flaming sensation of nerves that were dulled by time suddenly being reignited made her bite down over her lip, and before long the tip found the hard edge of warped metal embedded into her flesh. In a stroke of good luck the bone of her collar just below her shoulder had kept the bullet from going far. It was a blessing and a curse, the nature of the wound preventing too much bleeding but on the other hand, plucking a bullet from bone was not her favorite pastime.

Her breathing came to a dead stop in her in her chest when she gripped the narrow clamp over it tighter and she forced herself to steadily inhale and hold it before pulling with more force. Her grip wavered for a moment before the clamp over the bullet suddenly snapped off, and a curse flew from her mouth on the breath that whooshed from her lungs as the scissors fell from the wound, making her efforts so far wasted. It was about then when she stuck the tool back into her shoulder with a grimace that she desperately missed the cure all effects the Dream used to offer.

An agonizing entire minute later the bullet was pried loose when she finally jerked the tool out in one sharp motion and her hand trembled as she inspected the mushroomed silver, seeing it appeared to be mostly intact. The bullet was immediately thrown aside with a growl and she jammed the vial into her thigh and stood more confidently now, not wanting to spend another moment on the tower and gratefull that the strange ache in her head quickly faded with every other pain. She began her descent down the ladder, and only cast a brief regretted glance to the slumped form of the last sane Hunter before climbing over the final ladder.

It wasn't long after her boots touched the streets of Yharnam once again that the hidden refuge came into sight, and two nervous looking hunters greeted her as she drew near, clearly more apprehensive than they had been before she had come into sight. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar attire, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was covered in sprays of blood. Both seemed a good guess in her mind.

The man to the right of the other was the first to recognize her description though and he quickly rushed to call out to her.

“Ah, you gave us a fright there, Hunter,” He spoke with noticeable relief, and the other remained quiet, a female hunter who seemed content to say nothing. They were both unfamiliar, but appeared to be Powder Kegs, and notably older in appearance compared to most she had met thus far. “We had orders to wait until the tower was clear to secure it. I’ll admit we began to wonder if the person they sent up would ever come back down.”

“You’ll find your men up there,” She replied with a simple nod, “Only the dead rule that tower now I'm afraid.”

“I see. We’ll take our leave then.”

He took the other hunters wrist and gave her a nudging pull, and her curious stare finally snapped away as she nodded, following after the man as she grabbed his arm and stayed close by his side. "Thank you for your assistance," he added as he passed by by.

The hunters wasted no time heading down the alley and she watched them leave until they were out of sight, perhaps with a brief twinge of envy that the two hunters had someone to share their trials with, though it held no ill will, mostly just tire. The silent one casted one last glance back at her before they turned the alleys corner and disappeared, and she waited a few moments more before slowly opening the door to the refuge, thinking perhaps it was best to check her supplies and see if the room headed any more vials.

She brought the smell of blood with her as she shut the door and leaned against it, breathing in the freezing air for a quiet moment and watching the mist dispel before shutting her eyes, taking just a second to relax now that she was truly alone.

"How goes your night."

She jumped instantly when Henryks voice suddenly broke the quiet. People usually didnt manage to sneak up on her easily too often, and the recent slaughter only brought a higher level of alertness, making her all too wary. She turned to see him sitting half hidden in the dark, sitting atop a crate with an ankle folded under his knee, the heel of his dangling leg tapping idly against the flat surface beneath him as he mindlessly fidgeted with a slim throwing knife in his hands. His keen stare though immediately unnerved her, his look all too observing. That was the thing about people who said little. They noticed far too much.

“Exhausting,” She replied simply and stood up straighter, purposely averting her gaze as she brushed her hands over her cape a few times to rid the ends of dust.

“Anything you wish to talk of?” He suggested as she began to walk towards the back exit, deciding that her supplies were not nearly as low to risk this sort of conversation. She briefly wondered if he only still lingered because Gascoigne had still not returned, but this thought was soon settled.

“You know, I was wondering the same thing.”

The Minister’s voice suddenly spoke up as well, causing her to halt her walk midway through the room. Her gaze snapped almost nervously to see him slumped lazily in a chair on the other side of the room. His arms were folded comfortably in front of him and his signature black hat was drawn low over his eyes, his legs were strenched out long before him and casually crossed at the ankles. It seemed they had been waiting awhile for her return. Despite obviously being surrounding on both sides by trusted friends, she couldn’t help but feel she had walked straight into a trap.

‘ _How unfair_.’

"You two should have went on with the others. There was no need to wait on me."

"We thought it rude to press on without you." The room grew silent again after Gascoigne said this and she soon found the charade tiring, so she folded her arms and glanced between the two with a sigh.

“Alright. What is this.”

“It’s come to our attention that you may be troubled.” The Church Hunter hinted at and raised his hat with a single finger, and a second had barely passed before she sighed again and slipped a hand between her mask and hood to rub her temple, careful to avoid getting blood near her eye.

“And we can’t help but notice you’ve become increasingly distant with each passing month.” Henryk quickly added to this.

She lowered her hand reevaluated that last thought bitterly. This wasn't a trap. It was an ambush.

“Don’t ya think there could be more important things we could be doing with our time right now?” She pointed out as she straightened her mask back into place.

The two looked at eachother for a brief moment before glancing back at her with their answers.

“No.”

“Nah.”

“Alright you two, as fun as this is we should go before the group roams to far. When I need psychiatric help I’ll pay for it like every other person in this city."

She walked on and opened the far door across the room, and the two stood from their seats, Gascoigne shaking his head with a frown now, their efforts to get her to open up ultimately fell flat. Regardless though, it had already been agreed that they would keep a closer eye on her, even if that only meant staying closer by her side, and they quickly followed in kind after exchanging a silent look of knowing concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fun writing Gascoigne and henryk. They don't know how to mind their own damn business and I love it.


End file.
